


suits and swords

by Phoenix_Allura (Artemis_Autumn_Marie)



Series: Nix's Thominho Week 2018 [7]
Category: The Maze Runner (Movies), The Maze Runner Series - All Media Types, The Maze Runner Series - James Dashner
Genre: A/B/O, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Coronations, F/F, F/M, Genius Thomas (Maze Runner), Languages, Letters, M/M, Multi, POV Switches, POV Third Person, Polytheism, Religion, Sick Character, Smart Minho (Maze Runner), Smart Teresa (Maze Runner), So many OCs, Teresa Agnes and Thomas (Maze Runner) are Twins, Thominho Week, Thominho Week 2018, and they are needed, it's great, royal au, symbolism by me, tags will be updated as the chapters are posted, that I created just for this fic, trust me - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-07-26
Updated: 2019-04-11
Packaged: 2019-06-16 11:06:21
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 22,663
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15435717
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Artemis_Autumn_Marie/pseuds/Phoenix_Allura
Summary: Set around the Tudor era, but not including any of our history, this fanfiction follows a young Minho and Thomas, along with their siblings Niran and Teresa, and likely some of the other Maze Characters, through their lives. It is A/B/O verse like the tags said. Title credit goes to my best friend.





	1. five year olds always remember their manners

**Author's Note:**

> Minho, the eldest prince of Gaylia (Gay-lee-ah), only wants to know why he has to go to the docks in the cold to meet some princess from far away. But she has children- even a little boy, just younger than Minho. Maybe they'll be more exciting than tiny Niran.
> 
> Thomas doesn't like this ship. Not at all. Why couldn't Mama just have let him stay home?
> 
> This first chapter is a lot of (really cute) exposition.

"Minho!"  
"Yes, Mother?"  
"We have visitors coming this week, Princess Rosa and her children."  
"From Celassa? On Sonatina Isle?"  
"Yes, Minho. I'm proud you remembered." Minho pouted slightly. Of course, he would remember. The kingdom of Celassa was their biggest enemy, or so his tutor said. But they were an island, and they had mountains. Minho wanted to see mountains.  
"Princess Teresa and Prince Thomas are younger than you, Minho. You must be careful around them; they are not as big or as healthy as you."  
"Yes, Mother."  
"Try to get on with them well, Minho. You know the age for fostering?"  
"Seven." Noble parents would often send their children away to be raised in a different household.  
"We cannot foster you, Minho. You are our oldest child, the crown prince. But in four years, Prince Thomas may be coming to join us."  
"Because Princess Teresa is to inherit Celassa." Minho said.  
"Yes, she is. In six years, your brother is going there."  
"Why?"  
"I'll tell you now, but it might not make sense for years. If their grandson is here than the queens of Celassa are much less likely to attack us. And if our son is there, we are less likely to attack them."  
"Okay."  
The next day, Minho stood out on the docks, shivering, with his mother. Surely he didn't have to be here in the cold and rain to watch a foreign ship, with its foreign royals, come in. He could see three distant figures and recited their names as his mother had taught him: Princess Rosa, heiress to Celassa even before her daughter, Princess Teresa, and Prince Thomas.  
"Remember your manners, Minho." His mother warned as the ship docked and they hurried to greet their guests.  
"Of course, Mother." He was five years old, he didn't need to be reminded about manners. Besides, bows were never as calculated as his mother's curtsies seemed to be. He bowed to the princess and her children while his mother curtsied.  
"Queen Aika, it's nice to finally meet you in person."  
"The same to you, Princess Rosa. How are your mothers?"  
"They're doing well, though I must say they don't approve of our choice not to have any more children."  
"My mother is the same way, always urging my sisters and myself to have another child. It is quite dangerous, Princess, for you and both your heirs to be here, however, so let's step inside. This my oldest son, Prince Minho. His younger brother is in the nursery."  
"It's a pleasure to meet you, Prince Minho." She curtsied to him directly, and he bowed back, a little uncertain on what to do.  
"My twins, Princess Teresa and Prince Thomas." Minho was confused. They knew everyone's names already, why did they have to come inside before the children greeted each other?  
"Minho, would you like to show Princess Teresa and Prince Thomas around?" His mother asked as Thomas began coughing and hid his face in his mother's skirts. "Would you rather keep Prince Thomas with you?" She asked Princess Rosa.  
"No, he should be fine. He's not as sickly as he was even six months ago, but I'm afraid the travel was hard on him. He was born much smaller than Teresa, you know."  
"I did hear that, yes. I'm glad he's stronger now."  
"Thomas, Teresa, go with Prince Minho." Princess Rosa instructed her children. Prince Thomas stepped away from his mother and grabbed his sister's hand, then held a hand out to Minho. Minho took it.  
"Don't get into too much trouble." Minho's mother called after them. Faintly, Minho heard her say, "Minho's a good child, but he does like to play the occasional trick." Princess Rosa laughed and answered her, then he heard the women leaving the room, perhaps to go to his mother's receiving chambers.  
"Prince Minho, are we going to the nursery or to your classroom?" Princess Teresa asked.  
"To the nursery first. Don't you want to meet my baby brother?" Next to him, Prince Thomas nodded, and Princess Teresa got a funny look on her face, but she didn't say anything.  
"He's just one this year," Minho began telling them all about his baby brother.  
"Your Highnesses!" The nurse and Minho's maid and servant jumped up.  
"We are here to visit my brother, Prince Niran," Minho told them grandly, and out of the corner of his eye, he saw Princess Teresa wrinkle her nose at him. Well, she was only three. What did she know of manners? Prince Thomas kept holding his hand and smiling.  
"There are our guests, Princess Teresa and Prince Thomas," Minho told them.  
"I'll bring you some food. You must be hungry after your journey." Bella spoke to the twins but glanced at Minho for permission. He nodded. Bella hurried away.  
"Prince Niran is sleeping now, Prince Minho."  
"Well, we don't need to wake him," Minho said. He led Prince Thomas, and by extension, Princess Teresa to the low cradle where his brother lay.  
"He is a very handsome baby." Prince Thomas finally spoke, and Minho noticed his accent in a way he hadn't noticed Princess Rosa's or Princess Teresa's. "He takes after your mother, does he not? As you do." He spoke well for a three-year-old. Minho had spoken only one language at that age, and even now he did not speak many.  
"Prince Minho, if we might go to your classrooms?" Princess Teresa asked prettily.  
"We have been here hardly a minute," Minho told her.  
"Teresa, please." Prince Thomas twisted to look at his sister, and she gave in.  
"For you, brother, we will stay." Minho gave them a tour of the nursery; his rooms were off one side. In a few years, when Niran had outgrown the nursery bedroom, they would be his and Minho would have his own chambers.  
"I'm not sure where you'll be staying," Minho told the twins.  
"Prince Minho?" Bella called.  
"Bella is back. Shall we see what she brought from the kitchens?" His mother said that to him sometimes. Prince Thomas didn't release Minho's hand.  
"I've brought some crackers, dip, milk, and fruit," Bella said, holding a tray. "Where should I put it?" Minho let Prince Thomas decide- he was the youngest- and he picked a spot by the fireplace to settle in.  
"Thank you, Miss Bella," Prince Thomas said, unaware of how the rest of the room- excluding his sister- froze. The beta flushed - royal children did not often thank servants.  
"Yes, thank you, Miss Bella." Princess Teresa said.  
"Thank you, Bella." Minho followed their example.  
"We'll leave you be, Your Highnesses." Bella, Akian, and Niran's nurse, Hali, left them alone.  
"You may both call me Minho," Minho said. "We are alone, and of an age." He had no idea what that meant but it sounded good and smart and adult.  
"You may call me Thomas." Pr- Thomas said. "Minho." He added as an afterthought, grinning widely.  
"And I suppose you may call me Teresa, Minho." Her accent was lighter than Thomas's, for some reason.  
"Now that that is said and done, perhaps you would like to play a game? I have many." Minho suggested. Niran was too young to play, and none of the nobles' children were fostered here.  
"That sounds excellent, Minho. When will we be called for dinner?" Thomas said.  
"Not for a few hours yet." If we are called at all, Minho added in his mind. His parents might not want foreign children at their dinner table for the whole court to see. They played different games for an hour.  
"Your Highnesses?" Bella opened the door. "Princess Teresa, Prince Thomas, your mother would like me to escort you to her chambers. Your clothes are still with her and you must bathe and change for dinner."  
"Thank you, Miss Bella," Thomas said. Minho helped him off the floor- he was small enough that Minho could have carried him if he wished. Teresa was already standing.  
"Prince Minho, your mother wishes to see you in her chambers."  
"Thank you, Bella." Minho waited until Bella had taken Thomas and Teresa before going the same direction to his mother's chambers.  
"How do you like the young princess and prince?" His mother asked when he entered.  
"I like them, but all Princess Teresa wants to do is see my classroom," Minho said.  
"And Prince Thomas?"  
"He is very tiny and sweet. I like him best." His mother laughed.  
"Don't go saying that in front of them, dear."  
"I won't, Mother." She brushed his hair back behind his ears.  
"You need a bath and a change of clothes, Minho. I hope that tonight Princess Teresa and Prince Thomas can teach us some of their dances. Perhaps you can teach them some of ours."  
"That would be fun. Are the twins staying in their mother's chambers?"  
"I think for tonight, at least, she wants to keep them in her chambers. Prince Thomas is not the strongest nor healthiest of children."  
"He didn't cough while he was with me," Minho offered.  
"Perhaps so. I hear that you were an excellent host, though." She said as the servants filled the large tub with water.  
"I didn't do anything. Bella offered to get them food and I nodded at her."  
"You gave them a tour of the nursery." Minho climbed in the tub. "At dinner tonight, Prince Thomas will be seated beside you and Princess Teresa next to him. Do your best to keep them engaged in conversation."  
"Yes, Mother." Minho washed quickly and dressed in a new suit: Purple, blue, and white. Minho walked behind his mother to the dining hall- they were there early, as always. When Princess Teresa arrived, guided by Bella, he wondered what was wrong.  
"Queen Aika, my mother says that she and Thomas will be a bit late tonight if Thomas is well enough to come. She fears he has taken ill again." Teresa said.  
"I certainly hope he hasn't." Minho's mother said. "Later, perhaps, if they do not arrive, I will send our finest healers."  
"Thank you, Your Majesty." Teresa curtsied and took her seat. But they didn't have to worry for long. Princess Rosa came in, holding Thomas's hand to lead him to the high table. While both Princess Rosa and Teresa were wearing dresses, Thomas was wearing something Minho had never seen before. He was draped in a big piece of sky blue cloth, shoulders bare. It was pinned with what looked like a silver brooch under his right shoulder, then gathered and pinned again at his left knee. Thomas's legs were otherwise bare.  
"It's a chirette," Teresa murmured to Minho. "They are very popular right now." Thomas sat next to Minho. The rest of the court filed in slowly and they began eating, Thomas and Teresa chattering at and around Minho the whole time in low voices.  
"We must not have this type of fish," Thomas told Teresa. "It's very good. Minho, do you know what it is?" Minho had not thought their two kingdoms were so different.  
"It's sapphire raptor fish," Minho told him. "It's one of my favorites." After the three main courses- there were nine in all- the children were excused from their seats.  
"Thomas wore his favorite chirette today just so he could show you his favorite of our dances." Princess Rosa smiled at them.  
"I was discussing with Minho earlier that it would be good for the three of them to share their favorite dances with each other. Perhaps they'll create a new one!" His mother laughed. "The musicians are playing, darlings, so run along." Minho led first Teresa, then Thomas, in a traditional eight step dance that they picked up on pretty quickly. The adults were all eating, but some turned to watch as Thomas and Teresa tried the dance by themselves.  
"Thomas, wouldn't you like to show them a traditional dance of ours?" Teresa asked.  
"Of course." Thomas held out a hand to Teresa. "How about we dance first and then we let Prince Minho try?" Teresa took Thomas's hand and they began their dance. The musicians had stopped playing, but they didn't seem to mind. They set a fast pace, moving quickly and with ease. It was a complicated dance, full of turns and spins and steps faster than Minho could process. He could see why they'd picked up the eight-step so quickly. They ended with Thomas spinning three times and leaping into the air, landing lightly on the balls of his feet, and Teresa doing the same in reverse.  
"Would you like to try, Minho?" Thomas whispered to him as applause filled the room.  
"I think not. I wouldn't know the first thing about it." Minho whispered back. It looked complicated.  
"I'll teach you. We can start slowly." Minho allowed Thomas to guide him to a corner away from everyone. Thomas was patient, and Minho learned the steps to what was, apparently, one of the first dances learned at the Celassa court. The eight-step was one of three dances Minho knew; the rest he would learn when he was older. When he had grasped the entire dance fairly well, Thomas led him through it faster and faster.  
"Come. We will not perform at the speed Teresa and I did, but we cannot leave her to entertain the court alone much longer." Teresa finished her dance, and Minho noticed that some of the servants' children were now dancing as well. Thomas gripped Minho's hands tightly and Teresa spoke quietly to the musicians; they struck up a fast-paced tune and they began their dance. Minho was proud that he had only a few missteps. When they had finished, his mother summoned them.  
"Prince Thomas, what is the dance you have taught my son?"  
"It is the Altana, Your Majesty," Thomas answered.  
"You danced beautifully. I can say no one expected you and Princess Teresa to dance so well at your age."  
"Thank you."  
"Come, dessert is being served. Get your sister and join us for a while. Then you may dance for us again." The dessert was a raspberry and coconut tart with dark chocolate jelly. Minho ate one and then split Thomas's with him. Thomas had hardly finished his main courses and smiled gratefully at Minho when he suggested splitting.  
"If you've finished, perhaps you could teach each other another dance." Princess Rosa said.  
"Yes, Minho, teach Prince Thomas and Princess Teresa the Anaria." It was the most difficult dance Minho knew, besides the Altana. "And please, perform the Altana again."  
"Of course, Queen Aika." Thomas slid off his stool and bowed to her. Minho and Teresa followed quickly. Minho taught them the series of steps that made the Anaria: Left, spin, double clap, right, double foot tap, three spins, forward, left, spin, switch partners, right, right, spin, left, switch partners again, three spins, switch partners, left, back, right, spin, three steps forward, double spin, bow, switch partners. There was more to it- much more- but Minho had never seen anyone dance the entire thing, and he hadn't been taught the rest. Minho and Teresa started the dance, then Thomas and Minho, Thomas and Teresa, Minho and Thomas, and finally Minho and Teresa.  
"We should teach him the Conare." Thomas and Teresa joined their left hands and spun each other at the same time. They moved in time to the music, swaying and stepping in different directions, almost always touching. They finished with Teresa throwing Thomas into the air as best she could.  
"I'm going to take a break," Teresa said. "You and Minho would do the Conare beautifully, Thomas." Thomas took Minho's left hand and they began the dance. It seemed simpler than the Altana, and Thomas laughed when he whispered so.  
"The Altana is the first we learn so every other dance seems easy." After their dance, Princess Rosa called her children to her as the nobles began to dance.  
"It is time for you to go to bed; I will be with you shortly." She told them. Thomas and Teresa went.  
"Minho, it is late. You must go to bed as well." Minho pouted; he never had to go to bed this early! But he knew better than to contradict his mother in the presence of the court.  
"Yes, Mother." He bowed and made his rounds, saying goodnight, and took the hand Bella offered him.  
"Today was fun," Minho told Bella as she tucked him in. "I don't see why we have to be enemies with Celassa. Princess Rosa is super nice and I like Thomas and Teresa." Bella laughed gently.  
"It has less to do with them than to do with the warrior queens, my prince." Minho, already half-asleep, barely heard her.


	2. coronations that minho can't go to and thomas is fine, he swears

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Minho is upset; why does Niran get to go see his friends when he doesn't even remember them? And why is his father suddenly acting so oddly?
> 
> Thomas is upset; everyone is so worried that he's sick. He's not sick nearly as often as he used to be! And besides, he can't get sick now. Queen Aika and Prince Niran are coming for his mother's coronation and he has three new language teachers!
> 
> There is an explantion of the A/B/O dynamics in this chapter.

"Why can't I go to Princess Rosa's coronation, Mother?"  
"Minho, you are our heir. If the ship were to sink, heavens forbid, then your father would have already lost your brother and I. He would have to take a new wife or name one of your cousins his heir."  
"But Niran's only three! I'm seven, you should take me."  
"You saw Prince Thomas two years ago, and you write each other every week. He will send a letter detailing everything, and Niran and I will tell you all we can remember." Minho pouted. He wanted to see his friends again. Thomas wrote every week, Teresa's handwriting- nice and neat when she was trying, messier than Thomas's when she wasn't- sometimes leaving a note. Minho sat down right then and began writing to Thomas. His handwriting wasn't as good as Thomas's, but neither was Teresa's, so he didn't mind.  
'Mother says I can't come to Princess Rosa's coronation. I am the heir, of course, and that is why. But I still want to see you and Teresa, and tell your mother I wish her a long and happy rule. You will just have to tell her for me.' Minho wrote in Celassian, knowing that Thomas would respond in Gaylain.  
"Miss Bella, would you take this to the courier? I have to go see my tutor." He'd picked up the habit of calling her 'Miss' while Thomas and Teresa had been here and hadn't given it up yet.  
"Of course, Prince Minho. Don't forget you have to speak with your governess as well before she leaves."  
"Thank you, Miss Bella." Minho's governess was going with Niran, to teach him the beginning lessons. Minho was seven now, old enough for individual tutors and to shadow both his parents.  
"Lady Leanne, may I speak with you?" Minho asked.  
"Prince Minho, you have nothing to worry about; you are transitioning to your tutors very well. You will be fine. Keep up your letters to Prince Thomas. Your brother needs more attention than you, and I will tell Prince Thomas and Princess Teresa of your well-being." The governess, having been so for six generations of royals and nobles, was sure her oldest pupil for the term would be fine.  
"Lady Leanne..."  
"You will be fine, my prince. Now run along. Your brother and mother are leaving soon. You don't want to miss their departure, do you?" Minho shook his head and hurried away. Years later, he would realize that although she was going as well, she had been unconcerned about getting to the boat.

Thomas's hands flew over the needlework as he waited for Teresa to come get him. He knew why she was held up: This coranation was not only their mother's but hers as well, to name her as heiress to the kingdom.  
"Prince Thomas, your sister wants you." Teresa's newest maid-in-waiting said. "If I may, Your Highness, that work is fascinating." Thomas nodded.  
"Thank you."  
"If you were in a village, Your Highness, you would be apprenticed by now." Thomas nodded again; he was five, but he was a prince, being apprenticed wasn't an option.  
"Please, take me to Teresa." He folded his work.  
"Thomas! You aren't dressed yet! We have to greet Queen Aika and Prince Niran." Teresa said. "Here, wear one my chirettes. You always look great in them. Lady Amelle, go get the shoes to match this brooch. Between Teresa and her ladies, he was dressed and ready in three minutes.  
"Princess Teresa, Prince Thomas, Princess Rosa and Prince Consort Edward are waiting for you." They made their way to the docks.  
"Have either of you anything to give Prince Niran or Queen Aika?" Their father asked.  
"I made Queen Aika this silk sheath, and I have made a chess set that I plan to use to teach Prince Niran on and then give to him." Thomas and Teresa were learning the skills typically required of Omegas, Betas, and Alphas. They wouldn't present until they were twelve, but it was still good to know the basics of each secondary gender.  
"Good idea, Thomas. Teresa?" Their father, an Alpha like their mother- and all the ruling class of age right now- asked.  
"I've made Queen Aika a woven wall hanging, and I was uncertain what to make for Prince Niran-"  
"So you are giving him nothing?" Their mother's tone was sharp.  
"I am giving him a toy boat." Teresa answered. "I asked Lady Janelle, for she has five boys, none much older or younger than Prince Niran."  
"I'm glad you both have improved your crafting skills so much." Their father said. "The ship is just there." He pointed to the only ship on the horizon; much bigger than the small, sleek messenger ships Thomas was almost constantly watching for. He and Minho wrote back and forth, switching languages for practice. It was a shame he couldn't come.  
"Thomas, is that one of Teresa's chirettes?" Their mother asked.  
"Yes, Mama." He told her.  
"He was not dressed suitably, Mother." Teresa protested.  
"That is not for you to judge, Teresa. Nevertheless, Thomas, you look very nice." Everyone always said Thomas looked nice in chirettes. They showed off his bony shoulders and stuck-out collarbones.  
"Thomas, are you well? You are very pale." His father spoke in his native Arcyian. He reached out to put a hand on his head. "You don't have a fever."  
"I feel fine," Thomas replied in the same language. He had been such a sickly child that anytime he shivered, someone asked how he was feeling.  
"You must go rest after we greet Queen Aika and Prince Niran. You were ill just last week, remember?"  
"I have a dance lesson this afternoon." Arcyian felt odd on his tongue- maybe that was why Teresa had never learned it. "And we brought three native speakers of three different languages to tutor me." Thomas was preparing for what could be a great role for him, the second-born child. He would be a foreign emissary, able to speak, read, and write many languages.  
"You don't have to rest all afternoon, only for an hour. Not even until lunch." His father promised.  
"Then I'll rest," Thomas said. The ship pulled in.  
"Queen Aika, it is a pleasure to see you again." His mother said, as the highest ranking among them.  
"Princess Rosa, it is a shame to meet under these circumstances." Queen Aika replied. "My youngest son, Prince Niran. It is good to see you again, Princess Teresa, Prince Thomas, and it is good to meet you, Prince Consort Edward." The introductions made, they stepped inside.  
"I'm sorry to be leaving so soon, but I must rest. I am still recovering from an illness." Thomas made his excuses in Gaylain and slipped up to his bedchambers.  
"Thomas, wake. Lunch is in half an hour." His mother shook him gently. "You must be there, and then you have your lessons." Thomas changed and walked just behind his mother to the dining hall they were using today.  
"Prince Thomas, are you feeling better?"  
"Yes, thank you, Queen Aika." At his mother's nod, he went on. "This is for you, Queen Aika." He presented her with the silk sheath, which she exclaimed over.  
"You make beautiful stitches, Prince Thomas, my own weren't this good at five years old."  
"Thank you, Your Majesty." Teresa glared at him a little, and he knew she hadn't gotten such praise.  
"Have you and Minho been writing much lately?" Queen Aika asked.  
"Yes, we write often," Thomas answered.  
"He speaks of both of you highly. I wish he could have come along."  
"Well, in two years Thomas will be old enough for fostering. I was thinking that perhaps he could come to you." His mother said.  
"I'm sure Minho would not object. I will write my husband today. How is your Gaylain, Prince Thomas?"  
"It is excellent, Your Majesty," Thomas replied in Gaylain. His accent was still strong- Teresa's was much better, and his mother didn't have one anymore. "I expect to know three more languages in two years."  
"Two years? You are an ambitious child, Prince Thomas."  
"We have hired three native speakers of Elgan, Arain, and Leta to teach Thomas." His father said. "He is very intelligent, and works hard."  
"He will make a good husband for someone someday." Queen Aika said. "Whether Omega, Beta, or Alpha."  
"We are teaching our children what society tends to require of each secondary gender. They are a bit young for the harsh work Alphas typically do, so we have begun with Omegas and Betas."  
"They're old enough to begin strength training, I would imagine."  
"We were waiting until next year," His mother intervened. "Thomas is still so small, and still falls ill quite often." Queen Aika looked him over.  
"Do you eat your meat and vegetables, Prince Thomas?"  
"I do, Your Majesty."  
"Then I see no reason you shouldn't grow strong soon enough. My Minho runs every day now, he can get around the palace three times without stopping. Running will strengthen your legs and give you a good appetite."  
"They both alternate afternoons on dancing and tumbling lessons," His mother said. Was having strong, athletic children a competition now? Thomas stopped paying attention to the adults and just ate until it was time for his dance lesson.

Minho reread Thomas's letter again.  
'I have started running, Minho, as your mother tells me you do. I hope to be stronger when I see you again. Your father wrote back- I am to come be fostered in your kingdom when I am seven. I am not ill as often as I was when I was younger...' Minho remembered two years ago when Thomas had taken seriously ill two days before they were supposed to leave. They'd had to delay their departure for over a month, and Prince Consort Edward had come to see his family, to see his only son should he die.  
"Minho, are you reading Prince Thomas's letter again?"  
"Yes, Father. He writes in our language very well."  
"And do you respond in his?"  
"Yes."  
"He must be smart, to write so fluently in our language." His father leaned over, reading the letter. "And he's learning three more as well. He must know five or six, then, because he likely knows his father's native language."  
"He's smart, but he is also very small."  
"Yes, I remember. He will grow. Perhaps being more inland as he will be here will help him more than the cold ocean spray." Minho shrugged. He didn't know what his father was talking about.  
"I don't know what you mean, Father."  
"I'm sure you don't, Minho. I'm glad that Prince Thomas will be coming to join us, he will be good company for you after Niran leaves."  
"Where is Niran going?" Then Minho remembered what his mother had told him two years before.  
"He's to be fostered in Celassa, and perhaps even married to Princess Teresa."  
"Married? He's only three!"  
"It would wait until they are both old enough for marriage, Minho. You must know that even now we are deciding for you, although we are going to wait until you present to make any decisions." Minho knew this was a long time to wait. His parents had been betrothed when they were very young.  
"Minho, what do you hope to be? A Beta, Alpha, or Omega?" It seemed like an odd question because he didn't get to choose.  
"You and Mother are pretty cool, and you're both Alphas," Minho said. "Miss Bella's great, and she's a Beta. I don't think I know any Omegas." His father laughed.  
"Good answer. I think you'll be an Alpha like your mother and I- you've got the build for it. Now, remember, Minho, the only thing that differentiates Alphas, Betas, and Omegas, and even men and women, is what their body can do. Female alphas can both bear children and impregnate alpha and beta females and all omegas. Male alphas can impregnate like their female counterparts. Male betas can impregnate any woman. Female betas can bear children. Female omegas can bear children, and male omegas can bear children and impregnate beta females."  
"Why are you telling me this now?" Minho asked. He had a class with other noble children- ones recently fostered here- about it.  
"Because it is important for you to know. You are young, but I know you recognize the differences between your mother and I, and the differences between Betas and Alphas."  
"Okay. Can I go play now? I've finished my lessons for today." Minho didn't really care about the secondary gender stuff. He had five years before he would know his, so why would he care now?  
"Yes, you may go play. Tomorrow, while I hear the grievances of the people, you will be sitting beside me." His father sighed. Minho cheered quietly. He liked watching his father help the people.

"Prince Thomas, are you well? You are not focusing as you usually do." Thomas sat next to Teresa and little Prince Niran in their religion lesson, studying different religions and then their own.  
"I don’t feel ill, Mistress Ingrid." Other than his headache, but that might come from too much studying and too little sleep. He played chess with Niran until he went to bed, and then studied until he fell asleep on his books. Every night since Niran and his mother had arrived.  
"You look ill. Perhaps you’re just tired?" Thomas knew she was humoring him. Mistress Ingrid would run for his personal healer and then to Jefna's temple to pray for his health, and later to Mixlene's and Ielia’s. Seeing they were all bored, Mistress Ingrid dropped the topic and switched to another tactic.  
"I don't believe I've ever told you your namesakes. Princess Teresa, let's start with you. You are named for Ornic's third daughter, Teresa."  
"I know who Ornic is!" Niran blurted. "She's the Alpha goddess. Her daughters are all Alphas, too. Minho is named after her oldest, Minhla, and our mother after her second daughter."  
"Very good, Prince Niran. The three highest gods- Lady Ornic, Lord Althia, and their immortal child, Ceneret- remain the same across all these lands."  
"I'm named for the second of Ceneret's sons. They're the goden of betas. Your father is named for the first, but he's an alpha." Niran said, and Thomas suppressed a smile. If his cousin, Chuck, were here, he and Niran would get along very well. But he was with his fathers and mother at their country home.  
"Prince Thomas, you are named for Althia's youngest child- his only son." Thomas nodded. "Prince Niran, can you tell us the rest of the myth?"  
"Lord Althia had eight children- seven omega daughters and one omega son. They married eight of Lady Ornic's twelve alpha daughters. Lord Althia and Lord Ornic had one immortal child, Ceneret, who had four beta children- two sons and two daughters. These four children married the remaining alpha daughters. The children borne from these marriages- twenty four in all- married each other and traveled in coupled pairs around the land and across the sea. They founded the human race."  
"Very good, Prince Niran. You've all done quite a bit today. Run along and play." The three children left the classroom in a hurry. They didn't want to stay and have her change her mind. Thomas hurried to Aena's temple. She was his personal patron, goddess of wisdom. He'd been born under her moon, with an owl- while not one of her symbols, it was still considered a sign- watching over his birth.  
"Going to Aena's temple again, Thomas?" Teresa knew the answer. "She won't heal you. You are ill, and you know it. You always are." Thomas had to agree. He'd been born blue-faced, and if not for the owl clipping the cord stopping his breath, he would be dead. As it was, he was smaller than his peers and often fell ill.   
“She is my protector and my guide, Teresa. I shall never hesitate to go to her."  
"Your birth was a coincidence, not godly interference."  
"How can you know, Teresa? You are not a priestess, you do not devote yourself to the study and appreciation of the gods."  
"And you do?"  
"I go to one temple a week to learn from the priests and priestesses. I do more than you."  
"I know my fate. You do not." Thomas rolled his eyes. They were five. Teresa could die before reaching eighteen, before their parents gave her the throne. She knew nothing of fate.  
"Princess Teresa, you are needed by the seamstresses." Teresa left with Miss Elle, and Thomas continued alone to the temple grounds.  
"Prince Thomas, if it is health you wish, perhaps you should go to Lady Ielia's temple."  
"Lady Aena has blessed me many times. It is she who saved my life when I was born, and it is she who has blessed me with the ability to learn quickly." Thomas said. His parents could not learn as he did, nor did Teresa.  
"Leave him be. Prince Thomas, this is our new priest-in-training, Andrew." Thomas nodded at Priestess Annabeth. "Andrew, Prince Thomas has been coming here of his own accord since he could walk steadily enough to manage it. He may be young- only five years and four moons- but he knows what he's doing." Thomas stayed still for a few moments, praying, with Andrew and Priestess Annabeth at his side.  
The itch in the back of his throat began, but he ignored it.  
It grew more persistent, and he let out a weak cough.  
"My prince?" Andrew asked.  
"It is nothing, Andrew. I thank you for your concern." Thomas knew they didn't believe him, but he was fine, really he was. The itch had stopped and so he went back to his quiet prayers, thanking Lady Aena for all she had given him.  
It returned, and again he coughed.  
Violently. Thomas felt his chest moving painfully as he coughed, collapsing from where he knelt.  
The stone was nice, cool. Perhaps he should stay here.  
He couldn't breathe. The coughing was jerking him around, his body flopping on the floor as if he was fish. Well, he was a bit like a fish. He couldn't breathe.  
"Andrew, run for a healer and the prince's parents." Priestess Annabeth had seemed to realize this. Thomas continued coughing, his lungs aching. Then he spat something wet on the floor- he had defiled Lady Aena's sacred temple. If she would only forgive him...  
"Prince, you must look at me." He hadn't noticed he'd stopped coughing until Priestess Annabeth's hands were on his face. "The healer is coming, and your parents as well. All will be fine."  
"Priestess..." He gasped. He could hardly take in air. "If I should die, or lie ill for many moons, ask Lady Aena's forgiveness for me. Please." Lady Aena's sacred texts- her myths and legends, her children- fell from the altar, the owl on the cover facing Thomas.  
"She had already forgiven you, my prince, but I shall ask anyway." Her smile was blurred. She was blurred. "You are her chosen." He knew that. He didn't know why she was blurred.  
"Thomas!" Teresa. But she was with the seamstresses, she didn't like it here. Because it was so far away from the main palace. Thomas sat up- or tried to, anyway. Priestess Annabeth didn't let him up, and he made a noise at her. He started coughing again, air giving way to whatever fluid his body was trying to get rid of. He heard his parents and his last thought was that he'd never see their faces again.

Niran wrote first, his handwriting shaky and his spelling off. He hadn't had any help with this letter. He liked the coast, it seemed, the sea and the palace situated nicely in the middle of a coastal city. Minho thought to his own religion lessons when Niran said he'd been sitting in with the twins. They were few and far between, only the most important of their tales. He was enjoying himself, and Minho was glad. His little brother was going somewhere he never would.  
"Prince Minho, your father needs you." Minho put Niran's letter down and followed Miss Bella to the throne room.  
"You have gotten a letter from Niran as well?" He asked, smiling. Minho wondered why his father was trying to talk to him. He hadn't seemed interested before.  
"You are growing, my son, and soon will have your secondary gender. And besides, I am making an effort to get to know both my sons. I have been remiss in paying attention to you, and for that, I apologize."  
"Thank you, Father." Minho was confused. He must have spoken aloud.  
"Come, you will spend the day with me. You must learn the art of ruling, anyway." Minho followed his father down the hall. He'd spent the last two days with his father, listening to grievances. While he was too young yet to offer many solutions, he had spoken up a few times and been listened to. Maybe when he was older, his father would allow him one of those two days for his own.  
"King Andrew, are you sure you want a child in here during this meeting?" One of the councilors asked.  
"Yes. This is my eldest son, Prince Minho, and he will be at half of these meetings from now on. He must learn to rule, and there is no better way to learn than by watching and doing.” Minho sat beside his father at the head of the table and listened as the council told his father about what was going on: thieves in the West Quarter of Avely, their second-largest city, the treasury- it had funds, they were out of debt, and with the war ended, would remain that way. There were no major issues- the crops were doing well, and the lords and ladies of the council were satisfied.  
“Father, why are there no commoners on the council?” Minho asked.  
“That is an excellent question. During the growing season, I’m not sure some of them would be able to come, because they’d have their crops to tend to. But traveling merchants and shop owners would be able to make the trip all year round. What do you propose we do about the farmers?”  
“Surely there are farmers who are too old to farm. They could come during the growing season, and other farmers can come during the winter.” Minho said.  
“Shall I send an invitation out to all towns, telling them that they may have three representatives for them? One Omega, one Beta, and one Alpha? That they can pick whomever?” His father joked.  
“Yes. They are your people too, not just the lords and ladies.” Minho didn’t see why his father found this funny.  
“I will, then. The rest of the details we can discuss later. Should they know it was your idea?”  
“Yes. They should know their prince stands for them.” Minho said solemnly. His father chuckled again, and Minho was dismissed. He went to his classroom, where his tutors waited.  
“I’m sorry for my tardiness,” Minho said by way of greeting.  
“Why were you late? You never are,” Mistress Alla asked.  
“My father wanted me to attend a council meeting and said that I am to attend half of them from now, to learn by watching him.”  
“Your father learned the same way.” Master Ole, an old man who had taught his father, grandfather, and his long-dead great-grandfather (he'd been a young man then- barely older than his charge at twelve.). “He is wise to carry on the tradition. It works well.”  
“Yes, the king is wise. Might we get on with what we are payed for?” Master Conan was Minho’s least favorite tutor. But he was very smart, and good at teaching math and alchemy. So Minho had to learn from him.  
“Hush, Conan. The prince is yet young. He needn't learn everything all at once. I think he's done enough learning for today. Tomorrow, Prince Minho, you will have your lessons.” Master Ole said kindly, and Minho left for his chambers. He was going to finish reading Niran's letter. 

Teresa crossed the hall quickly. Lady Ielia may not be able to help now, but she could try. She would not go to Lady Ailel. Not today, not even as the rest of the castle prepared a feast. Not even as they prepared for what had been predicted by healers for five years.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey everyone! From now on, updates will not be as speedy as this one. I've got school coming, and another fic to write, too. My updates on that fic are about once a month, and I'll try to make that work for this fic too, but no guarantees. I'm going to have a lot of homework this year. Also, I might go back and edit the first chapter a little because I am still in the process of inventing not one but two religions for this fic. This chapter is fine; I have all the deities I needed for it, but the first chapter has none. Like I said, it's based on my schedule and I don't really have free time once school starts.
> 
> Anyway, what did you think? Comment your thoughts and tell me what you liked and what you want to see more of. Constructive criticism is always welcome!
> 
> Thanks for reading,  
> Phoenix


	3. why is being sick so tiring?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Minho doesn't know why bad things keep happening to his favorite people. The universe needs to go away and leave them alone.
> 
> Teresa is tired of everyone's insistence that she needs to pray to someone whose help is not yet needed.
> 
> Thomas is tired of everyone fussing of him. Teresa never leaves him alone! And he wants to go for a walk.

'Minho, I am writing this letter to tell you some very sad news. Sit down, dear.' Minho followed his mother's written instructions, wondering the news could be. Maybe Thomas had taken ill and died? But no, he was healthy and getting stronger. He was even running now! Minho couldn't wait to race him.  
'Lady Leanne has passed, at 123 years old. The trip did not help her failing health and she has left us to join Qihena.' Minho stared at the paper for a moment. Lady Leanna had raised six generations of royals. She couldn't just be dead. But his mother would not play such a cruel trick, and Lady Leanne's family had been in mourning dress for a day now- they had, rightly, gotten the news before he did. 'The coronation has been postponed a day so we can see Lady Leanne's body off properly. I assume your brother has already written about the rest of our affairs here, so I will not say anything more in this letter. Love, Mother.' Her royal seal was beneath her signature, as it always was, and Minho put the letter down. Maybe Niran's letter had gotten delayed, because in the past week he and his father had heard nothing.  
"Minho?" His father knocked on the door.  
"Come in." He called, subdued. He had expected Lady Leanne to be governess to even his children, though he knew she was training her great-granddaughter for the job.  
"So you've heard, then."  
"Yes. I- I did not expect Lady Leanne to die." His father looked a bit surprised, then he looked at his desk. It was clear; the one letter he'd received lay on his lap.  
"You have received no other letters?" He asked.  
"None. Only this one, from Mother, telling me that Niran has sent a letter about everything else and about Lady Leanne. Niran's letter must be delayed."  
"Minho, I also got a letter from your mother- and she told me more than she told you."  
"What did she tell you?"  
"Prince Thomas is very ill, Minho. I think your letter was sent before she knew this. The coronation has been put off until his fate is known."  
"He's been very ill before! He was so here, and he lived. He will live this time." Minho said. Thomas couldn't die. He had to grow up. His father's face softened.  
"Minho, Prince Thomas's death has been predicted since the day he was born. He was born blue-faced. He wasn't breathing. He should not have lived. And many of his illnesses before should have killed him as well. He might not live through this illness- they say it is fluid in the lungs."  
"He's too stubborn to die." Minho declared. His father sighed deeply.  
"I know you might be in shock over Lady Leanne. I should not have told you. Take the day off from your studies. Write a letter to Prince Thomas and his family. Go see Lady Leanne's family. I will see you again tonight." Minho watched as his father stood and left.  
"Miss Bella?"  
"Yes, my prince?"  
"Do you think Thomas will die?"  
"I cannot know, my prince. He has overcome many illnesses, but this one may beat him."  
"They all should have beaten him."  
"True enough, my prince. Now come, dress. You ought to go see Lady Leanne's family and pay your respects." Miss Bella always kept him on track. He liked that. Even when he was numb, he knew he liked it.

Teresa followed her parents from her brother's bedside to the temple grounds.  
"Come with us to Lady Ailei's temple, Teresa, please."  
"I shall go to Lady Ielia's, as always. And I will meet you at Lady Aena's temple." She had been doing this all week, refusing to give her brother to Lady Ailei's hands as her parents had.  
"There will only be one day on which I go to Lady Ailei's temple, and that will be the day I go to Lord Sadeyar's and Lady Nezphine's temples." Her parents both paled considerably.  
"Teresa, don't say such things. If you're going to be difficult, just run along." Her father said.  
"Alright." Teresa shrugged and walked to Lady Ielia's temple.  
"Princess. Here about your brother again?" Priest Anric asked.  
"I am. I have brought rosemary." It was one of Lady Ielia's favored herbs. "I have also brought Artic basil and idruce."  
"Idruce? Is that not the hybrid your brother discovered?" He'd created it, actually, messing around with the herb garden one day.  
"It is, Priest."  
"Good. Now, plant them here..." Teresa moved the herbs from their pots to the sacrificial pots.  
"Do you have any meat, Princess? A squirrel, perhaps?"  
"I have something better." Teresa said. Lady Ielia would not turn the gift of a Basenji Akita. They were abundant in the fields, but few hunters could catch one. One of the nobles had, or so he claimed. He had given part of the hide and meat to them to use as sacrifices. Teresa had gotten hold of half of what he give them, and was proud of it.  
"Of course, Princess. If you will?" Priest Anric motioned to her usual spot. She sat cross legged before the goddess's altar, watching the sacrifice was performed. The priest said her intentions aloud even as she whispered them over and over. When the last of the meat had burned, Priest Anric turned to Teresa.  
"Princess, it is the same as yesterday. There has been no answer." The answer would be her brother getting well, she almost snapped.  
"Look." She said instead, pointing to the odd pattern of ash. "I believe it is my father's language."  
"It is. I do not know what it says." The priest said.  
"It says 'The answer will come.'" Teresa said. That was hardly an answer at all.  
"I shall see you tomorrow, Princess." Priest Arnic said. Teresa said nothing as she left.  
"Princess." Priestess Annabeth greeted her. "Your parents have just arrived." They actually received a message during this sacrifice and returned to the castle.  
"Princess Teresa, you have a letter from Prince Minho." Teresa accepted the letter; he must have found out that Thomas was ill, finally. It had taken a while.  
"There is also a letter for Prince Thomas."  
"I will take it to him." Teresa took it. "Thank you." Her parents went to the council room; they still had a kingdom to run.  
"Thomas, I have a letter for you." Teresa kept her voice light and presented her half-asleep twin with the thick parcel. "He sent me a letter too. I thought we could read them together." Thomas smiled at her and she grinned back. He opened his letter without any trouble, and so she opened hers.  
'Princess Teresa,  
I do not know how this letter finds you, but I hope it does not come in a state of mourning.' Teresa skimmed the short letter, then watched her brother read his. The letter was long.  
"Minho is very kind to think of us in his grief." Thomas murmured. "When his governess has died." Teresa had forgotten about that.  
"Indeed he is," She said.  
"Teresa, would you send for parchment and a quill?" Thomas asked, going back to the letter. "I should think that I would like to write Minho back." Thomas was wide awake now, and had pushed himself into a sitting. He looked better than he had in days.  
"Of course." Teresa didn't much like Minho herself, but if he could make her brother better, she'd write out the letter while Thomas dicated it if that's what he wanted.  
"Miss Antonia, would you please go get parchment and a quill for Prince Thomas?" The maid nodded excitedly and hurried away. Teresa knew the feeling. If Thomas really was strong enough to write, this disease would surely not take him.  
"Princess, your parents would like to see you in your mother's receiving chambers." Lady Amelle said. "I am to watch over the prince."  
"Go, Teresa. I'll be fine." Thomas reassured her. Teresa kissed him on the forehead and headed, recluently, to her mother's chambers.

Minho pressed a flower into the new governess's hand. She was only ten, old enough to mind Niran. She wasn't done with her own schooling yet, so she would just watch Niran every afternoon.  
"I know you were close with my Grand Nana, my prince." She said.  
"I was, perhaps, closer than a boy should be with his governess. But I am certain, Lady Cerissa, that you were ever closer." Why was he saying these things, where were the words coming from? She smiled faintly.  
"I'm sorry for your loss, my lady. I hope my brother can have as good a relationship with you as I did with Lady Leanne."  
"I hope so as well." Minho moved on from her, going to speak with her mothers instead. He worried over the letters he had written earlier that day; one to Teresa, and a long one to Thomas.  
"Lady Alla."  
"My prince." She curtseyed. "I expected you to speak only with Cerissa, you spent so much time with her." Minho ducked his head.  
"I did not mean to offend, my lady."  
"You are young, Prince Minho, and it is not the worst mistake you will make. Go speak with my wife now." He obeyed.  
"Lady Mal." He bowed and kissed her hand.  
"My prince. My, aren't you charming today?"  
"I thank you for saying so." Ugh. These things were always so formal. Minho didn't much like it- not when it was sad. "I am sorry that Lady Leanne did not get to spend her last days with a family as wonderful as your own." Lady Mal laughed gently.  
"Grandmother did always like you. I can see why. Thank you for talking to me and making me laugh in a time of such sorrow." Minho took that for the dismissal it was.  
"Lady Annetta." The new matriarch of her house. "I am sorry for your loss, madam."  
"Do not be sorry for our house. We are hurting, yes, but my mother knew what was coming. She made sure we all knew it too. Lady Qihena took her fairly, and she is in Lord Nestwe's hands."  
"May she be judged fairly." Minho said.  
"I thank you for your kind words, Prince Minho. I'll be seeing you and your father at the funeral?" They held a polite, if strained, conversation for a few minutes more. Minho left after that head back to the castle. The funeral was in a week's time. Perhaps he would have a letter or two by then to brighten the day.

Teresa watched as Thomas wrote, every word seeming to make his eyes brighter.  
"Thomas, do you want to eat?" She asked quietly.  
"Not now, I must finish this letter first."  
"It's four pages long already, Thomas. You can take a break for an hour to eat." Teresa begged.  
"Teresa, Thomas, how are you?" Their mother stepped inside.  
"Thomas won't eat, Mama."  
"I will eat later." Thomas insisted.  
"You will eat now, Thomas, and you will not complain."  
"Of course, Mama."  
"You need to gain more strength if you are to start running and dancing and studying again, Thomas." Thomas moved the set the parchment and quill down and began coughing.  
"Go get one of the healers, Teresa." Teresa obeyed, moving as quickly as she could without sprinting.  
"Princess Teresa!" The five healers stood up.  
"It is my brother. He has begun coughing again."  
"Ande, prepare my bag."  
"Yes, Master Jeff."  
"I'll go with you, Jeff."  
"I wouldn't have anyone else, Clint." Teresa watched the healers move about their hut with an odd sense of fascination. She knew Thomas sometimes came and studied with them.  
"I'll start brewing more herbs." Another healer said. "I think we'll need it."  
"Good idea," Clint said.  
"Princess, if you would take us to your brother?" Master Jeff asked.  
"Of course." Teresa led the three healers to Thomas's chambers. Teresa remained in the receiving area while her mother and the healers fussed over Thomas. She could hear, faintly, the healers explaining to Thomas what every potion and tincture was for, what was in it.

Thomas hated being sick but he didn't mind that it meant it got to study healing if only a bit. Being a prince, healing would never be his profession- just a little hobby, and maybe someday he would come up with something that kept him from getting sick so often.  
"Prince Thomas, your color is better and your fever is gone. Your lungs seem to be clear. You've really improved since this morning." Master Clint told him. "I wonder why the sudden turn-around."  
"Teresa seems to think it's Minho's letter." Thomas offered.  
"You got a letter from Prince Minho?"  
"Yes, and I've been writing one to him."  
"That's an odd thing to make you well, but we'll take it." Master Jeff said. "You still have to drink the potions, though." Thomas frowned. They tasted horrible! Everyone in the room laughed at him, so he joined in. But that led to another coughing fit.  
"Now that we're not coughing every ten minutes, you need to get some sleep." Master Clint told him. "Drink this." Thomas drank the tincture and settled back into his pillows.  
"Send someone for us when he wakes up. The fluid is mostly gone, but it can build up while he sleeps. With his history of illness, I wouldn't be surprised if it comes back, or if he catches another bug." Thomas listened to Masters Clint and Jeff talking to his mother about him as he fell asleep.

Minho paced around his room. The letter from Thomas was ten pages long- his friend had a lot to say after not being able to write for a while.  
"Prince Minho, do stop pacing. Just write him back. He might be ill again-" Teresa's note at the end said that Thomas had gotten almost all the fluid out of his lungs when he had caught a cold that turned into something much worse- would he ever be out of danger?  
"Prince Minho! Sit down and write Prince Thomas a letter. Remember that Princess Teresa said he got better for a time when reading your letter. He is stronger now, you know that." Miss Bella said.  
"He's still sick all the time."  
"That is not his choice. I'm sure he'd rather he was well all the time than ill. The best you can do from so far away is send letters of support." Minho sat down and began to write.  
"Good, my prince." Miss Bella returned to her sewing- Minho knew the only reason she was here was that he'd been acting so oddly the last few days. Minho wrote for a long time- so long his hand cramped.  
"Are you finished, Prince Minho?"  
"Yes, Miss Bella." Minho signed his name at the bottom in the connected letters his mother had taught him and Miss Bella had enforced.  
"Then let's send it." Miss Bella walked him- like he was a child Niran's age- to the Postmaster's office.  
"Prince Minho, Miss Bella. I'm surprised to see you so soon." The old woman greeted them.  
"I have a letter to send to Prince Thomas." It was a sentence he'd said many times before, so did this time make him so nervous?  
"There's a trade ship leaving this afternoon. I'll send it on that one and Prince Thomas will have your letter in no time." Minho handed her the letter and left with Miss Bella. Thomas would get his letter, he knew that. The question was if he'd be alive to read it.

Teresa took to what her parents called a 'vigil'. She remained at Thomas's bedside unless someone physically removed her. The potions and tinctures weren't helping; they made sacrifice after sacrifice to the gods and got no response.  
"Teresa!" Thomas's voice was weaker than it had been in days. Teresa hated it. "Stop worrying so much, big sister."  
"How can I, when you are so weak, so ill?" He could not even sit up anymore.  
"I will be fine."  
"How can you be so sure?" Teresa demanded. Thomas just smiled faintly.  
"I'm tired, Teresa." Thomas rolled over- it took him a good minute- and fell asleep.

Thomas waited until Teresa had left to push himself up. That took far longer than rolling over had, but it was worth it. Whenever Teresa was gone, Thomas had taken to getting up and walking around his bed. It would make him stronger, even if the small circle currently drained all of his energy.  
"Prince Thomas, are you awake?" Master Clint entered his room. "Your sister said you might have gone to sleep."  
Thomas froze, halfway around his bed.  
"I see you are awake. And moving." Master Clint smiled softly. "I know it must be boring, staying in bed all day. You can't go outside yet." Thomas finished his circle and sat down for a few minutes, then got up and did it again.  
"This is what you do when you're alone, then," Master Clint said. "Trying to make yourself stronger?" Thomas nodded.  
"Well, it might help. You've done ten circles, lay back down." Thomas pouted, He wanted to stay out of bed longer. Master Clint laughed.  
"Don't worry, you don't have to stop forever. But you're still so weak that you have to rest between each lap, Prince Thomas. Maybe add five laps each day this week, starting at ten, and then next week see many laps you can go without resting. Let me listen to you breathe." Thomas did, and Master Clint smiled again.  
"The fluid in your lungs is gone- all we have to do now is bring your fever down." Master Clint said. "Have you been throwing up lately?" Thomas hated throwing up. It was the worst part of being sick.  
"No," He answered. "I'm glad, too, I hate throwing up."  
"I can tell your throat is worse. This should help." Thomas took the potion and drank it.  
"Well, you seem fine except for your fever and your throat- if it gets worse than just a general soreness, send someone for me, okay?" Thomas nodded.  
"I'll see you tomorrow, Thomas. And a word of advice: You can't avoid Princess Teresa by pretending to be asleep forever." Thomas nodded and yawned, closing his eyes.  
"You can't keep me away by pretending to be asleep either, Thomas." His father chuckled, and Thomas groaned.  
"Go 'way. Wanna sleep."  
"I'd imagine so. Master Clint told me the potion he gave you for your throat also knocks grown-ups out. I'll stay as long as I can, Thomas." Thomas hummed and drifted off, Merettia's clouds pulling him away.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey everyone! Here is another chapter for this month. If you also follow Demigods at Hogwarts, you'd know my (much shorter) chapters there have been going up like crazy. Like, seriously, the amount I'm updating is extremely abnormal for me. Anyway, what did you think? Comment your thoughts. What's going to happen to Thomas?
> 
> Thanks for reading,  
> Phoenix


	4. Chapter 4: coronations minho knows everything about, symbolism, and jobs

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thomas is just happy to able to run again.
> 
> Minho doesn't know why Niran and his mother won't tell him anything about the coronation, and Miss Bella is awesome.

Thomas stretched and jumped out of bed. Master Clint had said he could start running again today. He hadn't more than short walks for exercise in weeks, and he was bored.  
"Thomas!" Teresa ran into his room. "You're okay!"  
"Did I think I wouldn't be?"  
"You were so sick, Thomas! You can't pretend you weren't. You were on your deathbed for every day of three weeks and had to stay in bed for a month after that."  
"I won't pretend, Teresa. Just let go of me so I meet Master Clint outside. I'm going to the healers' hut to be checked out today, and after that, I'm going on a run." Thomas was glad he was better- it gave Teresa less reason to cling to him. "And then I'm writing a letter to Minho."  
"What is it with you and Minho? You talk about him all the time and you spend more time writing letters to him than you do with me!"  
"I'm going to live with him in two years, Teresa. I want to know him before I do that."  
"You're leaving me in two years!" Teresa nearly yelled. Thomas hadn't thought of it like that.  
"It's not happening for a while, Teresa, and it might not happen anyway," Thomas said. "I have to go, Teresa. You could walk me if you wanted."  
"Fine." Teresa huffed. "I'll walk you to the healers' hut and no farther." Thomas didn't know why Teresa was acting like this. They'd known for years the chances of Thomas being fostered somewhere were high. And he'd been deathly ill before. She hadn't reacted like this then. They chatted on the down, Teresa telling him about her studies while he'd been ill, knowing that's what he missed the most.  
"I start again tomorrow with my languages, and then next week I'll start with you."  
"Why next week?"  
"If I can't handle three languages, Teresa, then I can't handle three other classes, even if they are just with our governess."  
"You'd be fine. I know you snuck books into your bed." Thomas shrugged. His father had given him a written copy of a story that his mother had told him before she'd been killed and he'd been taken in by the local duke. He'd read it, of course, and then begged his father to bring him another book.  
"Father brought them to me, actually," Thomas said. He leaned over and kissed Teresa on the cheek. "I'll see you later."  
"Prince Thomas, it's good to you up and walking." Master Jeff greeted him. "Clint, the prince is here!" He called into the back rooms. Master Clint came to the front room.  
"Prince Thomas, if you would step back here." Thomas followed Master Clint to one of the patient rooms.  
"You're going on a run after this?" Master Clint asked.  
"Yes, if you'll allow it," Thomas answered.  
"Let's see how you are first, and then we'll talk," Master Clint said. Thomas nodded and did everything he was told to as Master Clint looked him over.  
"You seem to be in good shape, your lungs are fine, and your fever's completely gone. Just take it slow for a few days, okay? You can run, but not far." Thomas agreed and hurried outside. After he was done, he was going to write Minho- maybe next time they met, they could have a race.

Minho opened Thomas's letter- He was healthy and running again, and the coronation was planned for the next week. Minho wrote a quick note back. With the council meetings he had to sit in on now and his lessons and running and the extra stuff he had to do because his father had found out that Thomas and Teresa were preparing to be any secondary gender, he wouldn't have time to sit down and write out a full letter until the evening.  
"Prince Minho!" Miss Bella called. "Your father the king wants to see you immediately."  
"Coming, Miss Bella." Minho stood from his desk and hurried through his rooms into the hall. "The council meeting isn't for another fifteen minutes, what does he need me for?"  
"Perhaps he just wants to spend a little time with you, my prince." Miss Bella's smile was kind. "You don't see each other as often as he would like." Minho frowned. He saw his father at least once every day, even if they didn't talk.  
"Prince Minho is here, my king." Miss Bella called through the door.  
"Send him in. Thank you, Bella, for bringing him."  
"Of course, Your Majesty." Minho stepped inside his father's office and sat down across from him, imitating his posture.  
"So, Minho, what have you been doing lately?"  
"Nothing interesting," Minho said. Except Thomas's letter, but that always had something new and exciting. Minho hadn't realized their cultures were so different, despite sharing three major gods.  
"Well, have you gotten any mail lately? Anything from Niran, or your mother?"  
"Nothing from them yet, but I know the coronation is taking place soon. Tho- Prince Thomas is doing much better. He said he's even started to run again."  
"That's good. I'm glad Prince Thomas is doing better, and I'll be glad to have your mother and Niran home again soon."  
"Yeah." Minho agreed. He missed his mother. Niran had taken to following him everywhere, and it had been cute for a day. He heard his father laugh and looked up.  
"You're thinking about Niran, aren't you? You've got that look on your face."  
"The one that says 'My younger brother is annoying and I hate him'?" Minho asked, and his father roared with laughter.  
"No, not exactly," He gasped out. "But you're close. We must go now. The council meeting will begin soon."  
"Why do I have to follow you around when I'm so young?" Minho asked.  
"You may only be seven, Minho, but anything could happen. In the past, ruling kings and queens have died, leaving an heir your age or younger. Of course, there is normally a regent in that case- a non-ruling parent, for example, or the council. If anything were to happen to me, your mother would rule until you reached eighteen. And then it would be your turn. It's important you learn young, so you're prepared in case anything happens."  
"Master Ornic said your father did the same with you," Minho said.  
"He did. Gave me just about the same speech when I was your age. And his father did the same with him. It's tradition now, I suppose."  
"Okay, Dad." Minho shrugged. He knew he had to have children- an heir and spare, as they said. And maybe it good, this training. But he still had eleven years before he ruled, and that was just if Father died before he was eighteen.  
"You never call me Dad." His father looked at him, confused.  
"It just slipped out, I guess." Minho shrugged again. He didn't even call him Dad in his head.  
"Well, it's fine," He said. "After you, Minho." Minho entered the council room before his fa- before Dad. Based on the paper stacked in front of everyone, it was going to be a long and boring meeting.

Thomas bit the thread off and held his new jacket in front of him, satisfied. He was very good at embroidery- it was one of his favorite things to do, work-wise.  
"Prince Thomas, the seamstresses need to see you. Bring your coronation jacket." Thomas followed Mr. Altre to the seamstresses' rooms, even though he already knew where they were.  
"Prince Thomas, it's good to see you down here again." Mistress Mali smiled at him. "We've finished adjusting your suit. I see you've finished your jacket?"  
"Yes, ma'am."  
"Well, go try it on." She handed him his shirt and pants. Used to this by now, Thomas stepped behind the curtain and changed from his everyday chirette into his coronation. At the next coronation- Teresa's, in several years- he'd be wearing something much finer. The pants and shirt were both a much better fit than last time he'd tried them on- he'd lost enough weight while ill for it to make a difference.  
He stepped out and pulled the jacket.  
"They fit you very well, Prince Thomas. Change back, and they'll be pressed and brought to your room the morning of the coronation." Mistress Mali said. "Run along, I know you have better things to do than sit and gossip with us seamstresses." Thomas grinned- she said that every time and he almost always stayed at least an hour. He enjoyed it down here. It was quiet, and the seamstresses had quick wits and sharp humors. It was fun, and he got to learn things, too, gossip or not.  
"Leave the prince alone, Mali." Apprentice Aziza laughed. "We all know he won't leave. Come, sit next to me, my prince." Thomas sat next to her. She was only a few years older than he was and very talented at sewing and weaving.  
"What would you like to learn today, Prince Thomas? Weaving? How to make lace? How to spin hair into gold?" She teased.  
"Weaving, please." Thomas requested. He may be a prince, but he wasn't without manners; both his parents had raised in households with strict behavior rules.  
"So polite for one so young." Another of the mistresses, by far the oldest, praised him. "I remember your father when he was young. After a bit of polishing, he had the best manners I've ever seen." Thomas loved hearing stories of his parents and the seamstresses knew more than anyone in the castle, except maybe his grandmother.  
"Don't mind your manners, Prince," Aziza grinned at him. "I didn't, at your age. Let the boy be a child for once."  
"Should we abandon titles, then, too, when he comes unaccompanied?" Mistress Raya asked, and Thomas decided to look that word up later.  
"Yes please." Thomas said as Aziza said, "If that's what he wants."  
"Raya, he is only a boy," Mali said gently.  
"A royal boy."  
"But still a boy. He is a child; if he has no wish for titles than neither do I." Aziza declared. "Prince, may I call you by your given name? You may call me Ziza."  
"Of course you may, Ziza." Thomas grinned at her. "You all may." Mistress Raya threw her hands up.  
"Well, Aziza, begin teaching Thomas how to weave. I hear you're studying three new languages, Thomas, would you like to learn my native language?" Mali asked.  
"Of course," Thomas said. He always wanted to learn new languages. She began by pointing out things he was using and telling him what they were. It wasn't much different from his father's language, and he picked it up quickly.  
"Prince Thomas, your mother the crown princess would like to see you." A servant- one Thomas hadn't seen before- said stiffly.  
"We can finish your weaving lesson later, my prince," Aziza said. Mali did not mention their language lesson. It would be seen as odd for a prince to learn a language from a seamstress.  
"Thank you." Thomas folded his work carefully- the loom would be needed for other things and he could set it up again later- and stood.  
"You may leave, Mister Rogers. Thank you for bringing Thomas." Mama raised a hand and waved the stiff servant away. "Thomas, darling, come here. How are you feeling?"  
"I feel fine, Mama," Thomas answered. "I'm excited for your coronation."  
"I know you are." She smiled softly. "And you're not mad that Teresa is my heir, and not you?"  
"Why would I be mad? Teresa is older than me; it is only right she is your heir."  
"Thank the gods. Your grandmother told me that siblings can get jealous of each other. The stakes are simply higher here." Thomas nodded politely.  
"Write Chuck about Prince Niran." She said. "They'll get along well."  
"I already have. Will they arrive tomorrow?"  
"No, the day after. Our messenger will be intercepting them on the road."  
"And then your coronation is the next day."  
"I don't know what we'd do without you to keep us on schedule, Thomas." Teresa drawled.  
"Teresa," Their mother spoke sharply.  
"Sorry, Mother." She tossed her hair back. "Haven't you got lessons, Thomas?"  
"Teresa, you are not to act like this. You know full well your brother has no lessons until after the coronation. Thomas, please, come with me."  
"What? Where am I to go?"  
"Back to your studies, Teresa. You still have them; you must learn what to say and do at the coronation. Thomas's role is much smaller."  
"I-"  
"Teresa, please. I need to speak to your brother alone."  
"Of course, Mother." Teresa curtseyed to both of them, a formality they didn't use when alone. It stung.  
"Come with me, Thomas. Your sister is just upset that I am spending time with you and not her."  
"She doesn't do this when I spend time with Father," Thomas said.  
"That's because you and your father speak his language; it is something you share. And she spends hours at a time with him, studying." Thomas tilted his head. He hadn't known Teresa studied with their father.  
"And you know, Thomas, that Edward and I don't get to spend the time we'd like with you. I'll be queen and have even less time to see you." Thomas nodded. He'd heard this from his tutors.  
"It's okay, Mama." He said softly. She smiled, and Thomas noticed the paint smeared under her eyes.  
"Mama, you have paint on your face."  
"Yes, I do, sweet one. When you're older, I'll teach you if you like."  
"But I'm going to Prince Minho's." He reminded her.  
"You'll be back for a few months before and after your presentation."  
"Your Royal Highness, Prince Consort Edward and yourself are needed in the council chambers."  
"Of course, Mister Albet. Thomas, dear, I'll see you at dinner." Thomas bowed to his mother and waved goodbye, feeling lost in the big throne room all alone.

Minho opened Thomas's latest letter to find that Niran was getting along fine. He included one of Niran's sketches of their throne room and a detailed explanation of the decorations. Minho sighed and started writing back. He wanted to be there, watching the coronation, not just hear about it through letters and stories.  
"Prince Minho, your tutors are waiting," Miss Bella called from outside the door. "You can write Prince Thomas back later."  
"How'd you know?" Minho asked as he joined her in the hall. She smiled.  
"You have a certain way of always getting your letters first on the days Prince Thomas has one due to arrive, and besides, whenever you have free time you're writing a letter."  
"Oh."  
"Don't dwell on it, Prince Minho, it's rather endearing that you're such good friends with him." Minho nodded. He didn't exactly know what endearing meant but supposed it to be a good thing by the way she said it.  
"Prince Minho, nice of you to join us." Minho ducked his head; he'd never been this late for lessons before. "You'll be starting with me today. Look at me when I'm speaking; if you're ashamed of your behavior, address it in a better manner than simply looking so. Apologize correctly."  
"I'm sorry, Masters, for my tardiness," Minho repeated the words drilled into him the first time he had lessons.  
"Better. Now, don't take to daydreaming." Minho, of course, was soon bored, but he forced himself to pay attention, even taking notes.  
"I think the prince had learned his lesson for today." Master Ornic said quietly. "Prince Minho, we'll go to your chambers for your lesson today." Minho perked up. Master Ornic's lessons were the best, he loved studying in places that weren't the classroom. That was the end of the conversation. Master Ornic had years on his other tutors, and so they didn't question him often.  
"You tried very hard to pay attention today, Prince. It did not go unnoticed." Master Ornic told him as they walked to his chambers. "I can only hope you make such an effort in my lessons."  
"I will certainly try, Master."  
"You will do better than try, my prince. You are smart enough to understand this all very quickly if you try. You don't daydream as you did even a few months ago in lessons."  
"Some of the lessons are so boring, Master."  
"I said the same at your age. I also was a daydreamer, and in some ways, it has served me well. It will serve you well, too, if you know how to use it. That's what our lesson focuses on today." Master Ornic had the look on his face that said Minho's head was going to be tired when they finished, and he groaned internally.  
"Now, don't get that look on your face. When you're done, you're excused from lessons the rest of the day. But you have to finish this first." Minho nodded. Maybe it wouldn't be too bad after all.

Thomas slipped into the seamstresses' room, away from the noise. There were people everywhere these days: Decorators, extra servants, extra guards, and it seemed like they were all in the halls at once.  
"Prince Thomas, it's the day your aunt, uncles, and cousin arrives." Mistress Mali reminded him. "You must go change and find your parents to greet them." Thomas groaned.  
"There are just so many people today!"  
"I'd imagine so. There's quite a lot left to be done. After your social obligations, Thomas, you might be able to come join us." Aziza told him. Thomas nodded, slipping back out the door and up the stairs. Teresa found him quickly- she always seemed to these days.  
"Let's go to your quarters. Prince Niran is there, you know. I think he hopes to play chess."  
"I can't right now. We have to get ready to greet our uncle Prince Ellet and his partners and Chuckie."  
"You will play chess with him after we greet them, not go back to the seamstresses. You are a prince, Thomas, and you have been neglecting your duties." Thomas wondered where she got that phrase from. He'd heard his mother say it to a few of her councilors before, but Teresa hadn't been there. "I'll take care of Chuck's tour, and then we'll all gather for a while."  
"One game of chess- it's a two-person game and I won't have you and Chuck left out." Teresa rolled her eyes, but she usually left during their games anyway. "And I have marbles, we can play a game with them."  
"You never share your marbles with me," Teresa pouted. She didn't know about the new set he had. Minho had sent it to him, and as Teresa hadn't any packages, ever, he knew she hadn't gotten one.  
"Well, you can use them today."  
'And you have a perfectly good set of your own,' He thought. She never shared hers with him, either.  
"After dinner, we have nothing else to do, and Prince Niran and Chuck will definitely go to bed. They're three and two."  
"We will have things to do after dinner, Teresa. Prepare for the coronation, mainly."  
"Yes, but do we really have to do anything? Go visit the seamstresses then." Thomas nodded. He had the feeling Teresa was planning something.

Minho stood up and paced, then sat back down again. Father had sent for him and he wasn't here. What could he want that was important enough he couldn't have Miss Bella tell him but not so important that he would be kept waiting for so long? Minho fidgeted in the chair and stood up again.  
"Minho, sit down." Minho jumped and turned to face the door.  
"Of course, Father." Minho sat as his father laughed.  
"You're the same as I was at that age, never able to sit still for long. Anyway, I do have something to tell you."  
"What?" Minho asked.  
"This fall, after your mother has returned, I'm going on a tour of the kingdom. I'd like to bring you with me." Minho grinned.  
"I'll go!"  
"It won't be easy traveling," His father warned. "It's unlike anything you're used to."  
"Well, I'm going to have to get used to it eventually," Minho shrugged.  
"Oh, child, what am I going to do with you?" Father started laughing. "So, it's settled, then. I've already spoken with your mother about it. Niran's too young yet to make the journey, but you, a strapping boy of seven, you'll manage."  
"Your Majesty, Your Highness, the mail ship has arrived." The messenger paused. "I'm afraid there is only one living person on board."  
"Well, get them to the healers at once," Father said calmly. "And find and contact the families. Get someone to help you. I'll go down myself and see what I can do."  
"I'll come with you," Minho said, standing.  
"Of course, Minho. Grab some people to help you, son. We know the way." Father said to the messenger. "If you can find Miss Bella, send her to us." Minho followed his father out the door. He was finally doing something important.

Thomas adjusted his jacket and spun in front of the mirror.  
"Prince Thomas, your aunt the princess is here to see you."  
"Send her in, please." Aunt Anna opened the door.  
"Your mother says I'm to escort you in the coronation parade."  
"Yes, Uncle Ellet will be walking with Grandmama," Thomas answered. “Teresa is walking with Mama. Chuck is walking with my father."  
"Well, it'll be fun walking with you. Your mother enters last, right?"  
"Yeah. For coronation parades, the normal order is reversed. So it'll be Uncle Sam--” Her and Uncle Ellet's husband-- “Then it's Father and Chuck, Uncle Ellet and Grandmama because he's the natural born prince and she's the Queen’s mother-by-marriage. You and I will go next, as I'm second in line to Teresa.” Thomas didn't know why Anna was with him. She'd only been the ruling princess of Selaw before the kingdom dissolved and she married Uncle Ellet.  
“I'm impressed you managed to remember all that.” Thomas shrugged.  
“Remembering it in other languages is much harder. That was my assignment in all my language lessons, plus Father had me repeat it to him, and I wrote Prince Minho about it.” Aunt Anna laughed.  
“You'll be grateful for remembering soon enough. How many languages are you learning?”  
“Three.”  
“And how many do you know already?” Thomas counted in his head.  
“Three.”  
“When do you turn six?”  
“Not for half a year yet.” Thomas wondered at the change of subject.  
“You'll know as many languages as years you have by then. It will be a feat to keep up with that.”  
“I guess so.” Thomas didn't want to be his father's age still learning a new language every year. There probably weren't even that many languages in the whole world!  
Thomas lifted his head and took a deep breath. Uncle Ellet was three… four… five… six… seven… eight… nine… ten steps away. Thomas walked forward with Aunt Anna. When they reached the raised dais, Thomas stood by his father and Grandmama, and Aunt went by her husbands and Chuck. Chuck was holding incense, and Thomas took up the heir’s crown. Teresa and Mama had started walking already when he turned to look. Mama's dress was gold- the color of promise- and royal blue- the color of honesty. Her sash was her house colors. Teresa was in white, the color of youth and joy, with her sash in their house colors.  
“Princess Rosa of House Murphy, are you the trueborn daughter of our beloved late Queen Lesa Murphy and Queen Iris Allito?” The High Priest asked.  
“I am.”  
“Do you accept the duties of your mother, grandfather, and great-grandmother as given to you today by your birth and by the people?”  
“I do.” Mama took the scepter. “This scepter has long been a symbol of power to this nation. If I should abuse my power or use it in ways which cause harm to my people, then it shall be removed from my hands and passed to one worthy enough to hold it.”  
“Have any of the people any objections?” The High Priest asked. No one stood.   
“May the gods bless your rule.” He poured oil over her head. “With this oil and this crown, know the people have given you their blessing.” The crown, gold with emeralds, rested on Mama's head.  
“I thank you, citizens of Celassa, for entrusting me with this honorable duty.” Mama turned to the people. “If it is your wish, I will name an heir, to act as your guide when I no longer can.”  
“I speak for House Wood. Name your heir, Queen Rosa.” An elderly woman stood.  
“I speak for House Smith. Name your heir, Queen Rosa.” Thomas knew that man. He was the royal blacksmith.  
“I speak for House Ellis. Name your heir, Queen Rosa.” They were the first of the nobles to stand.  
“I speak for House Serpa. Name your heir, Queen Rosa.” His father's cousin.  
“I speak for House Manada. Name your heir, Queen Rosa.” Thomas saw Mrs. Manada when he went to the market, she and her daughter ran it.  
“The people have spoken. Queen Rosa, name your heir.” The High Priest said.  
“My heir is my eldest child, Princess Teresa of House Murphy.” Teresa stepped forward.  
“Are you the trueborn daughter of Queen Rosa Murphy and Prince Consort Edward Serpa?” The High Priest asked.  
“I am,” Teresa answered.  
“Will you study the law and learn your mother's teachings?”  
“I will.”  
“The Houses have no objections?” Anyone that had stood had sat again, and no objections were voiced.  
“Until the day of your mother ceades the crown and scepter is proved unfit, or, Gods forbid, dies, I name you, Princess Teresa of House Murphy, the heir to the crown of Celassa.” Thomas stepped forward as Teresa bowed her head for the oils. “May the gods bless your path.” The crown settled on Teresa's head and the coronation was done. Now it was time for a feast.

Minho stacked letters going to town and tied up the bundle. Then he grabbed his letters- from Mother and Thomas and Niran- and almost ran to his chambers.  
“Have you found your letters, Prince Minho?” Miss Bella asked. “Let me see Prince Niran's. Your mother did the address, clearly. Has his handwriting improved any?”  
“A little. Thomas was teaching him. I'll be glad when they're home- I won't have to figure out what he's trying to say.”  
“Do you want me to read this letter and decipher it for you?”  
“Yes, please, Miss Bella.” Minho opened his mother's letter first. They'd left only three days ago when the letter was written.  
‘The coronation was quite fine, Minho. Princess Teresa was named heir to the throne and both she and Queen Rosa wore symbolic outfits. Prince Thomas later told me what the colors mean for them. You would have loved the feast afterward. Nobles and commoners alike dined at the same table, and there were no leftovers. It really was a beautiful ceremony, all in all. Perhaps Niran can teach you a few of the dances Princess Teresa and Prince Thomas taught him.’ Minho skimmed the rest of it- she'd left Thomas and Niran to tell him the details.   
“Prince Niran says that Queen Rosa and Princess Teresa both wore their house colors are sashes, and that he wants to see Prince Chuck again.”  
“Prince Chuck?”  
“He's a cousin of theirs, I believe. He also says he misses you and would like to play chess with you.” So Niran had written no details about the coronation or feast. Miss Bella set Niran's letter down.  
“I'm sure Prince Thomas will have told you all about it.” She smiled at him. “You have nothing to do until dinner. Why don't you take your time reading his letter? I'll just sit over here and sew, maybe write a letter of my own. It's been a while since I've written my parents and sisters.” Minho opened Thomas's letter absentmindedly.   
“How many sisters do you have?”  
“Three. I'm the secondborn. My oldest sister has married a nice Alpha and has a child on the way, my third sister is courting, and my fourth is looking for a job. She and her wife have hardly enough money for their house.”  
“She can work here.” Minho looked up from Thomas's description of the dresses. Miss Bella laughed.   
“No, she could! What is she good at?”  
“She's an excellent cook and Mina can sew well enough. I suppose if positions were available, they could both work here.”  
“Write them about it,” Minho urged. “You've seen this place, we have more than enough rooms.”  
“That is true.” Miss Bella laughed. “And she and Mina can rent out their house for extra money.” Minho shrugged and went back to reading Thomas's letter as Miss Bella wrote her own.  
He might not have been at the coronation, but that didn't mean he didn't know everything about it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey everyone! I hope you enjoyed this chapter. I start school tomorrow, so updates won't be as frequent and maybe not as long. I really hope they'll stay about the same length, though. What did you think? Anything you want to see more/less of? Let me know!
> 
> Thanks for reading,  
> Phoenix


	5. why does traveling by boat take so long?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thomas is traveling with two people he's never met before. On a boat. In close quarters.

Thomas smoothed down his chirette.  
"Prince Thomas, Queen Rosa would like to see you." He'd messed up big time.  
"Of course, Mister Dalven."  
"My mother the queen." Thomas bowed to her upon entering the throne room- she was the only other person there.  
"Thomas, come up here." She gathered him in her lap like he was a child of three, not a boy of seven. "Tell me what it is you've done."  
"You must know already, Mother." He answered.  
"I would like to hear it from you." That was a trap, he knew it was a trap. Mother said it to Teresa all the time.  
"I was dancing with Teresa at the gala last night and knocked into a foreign diplomat. I was remiss in my apology--" He'd learned that word from the seamstresses-- "and then I spilled wine on the Princess of Anast's robes."  
"And did you do these things maliciously?" At his confused look, she amended her question. "Did you do them on purpose? Were you trying to be mean?"  
"No, of course not. I would never ruin someone's clothing on purpose."  
"Then it was an accident, and no harm is done. Princess Cecelia has already spoken with me. She is not angry with you, and the diplomat knows this is a misunderstanding. You are not in trouble on your last day here." Thomas startled; he'd almost forgotten that he was leaving for Minho's tomorrow. That last night had been a ball for his and Teresa's seventh birthday. "What would you like to spend your last day here doing?"  
"I don't know." Thomas shrugged. Now that he was leaving, he really didn't want to. Even if it meant seeing Minho all the time.  
"Well, you have the day off from lessons, and I don't think you're packed yet. How about we go do that?" Thomas nodded.  
When he opened his closet, he saw several new things; among them chirettes and even a few dresses.  
"You'll need a separate trunk for those," Mama said. "And of course, your personal seamstress-"  
"I don't have a personal seamstress, Mama."  
"Now don't insult me, my prince!" Aziza stepped from the corner in which she had hidden. "I have presented, but I'm still your friend. And besides, I'm no longer an apprentice."  
"As your personal seamstress, Mistress Aziza will have reason to spend time in your chambers and she may become an advisor to you. Mistress Mali was my personal seamstress until I became too busy, too important, to have one."  
"And who else will teach you the ways of Omegas?" Aziza teased.  
"You mustn't say such things, Mistress, we do not know what he'll be."  
"I apologize for my misstep, my queen." Aziza curtsied. Thomas pulled one of the dresses from the closet. It was deep green with long skirts.  
"There's a kirtle and petticoats, of course, and the skirts will be more like Princess Teresa's," Aziza said.  
"You don't have to wear it if you don't want to, Thomas," Mama said.  
"We don't know what I am yet." He frowned. Aziza was an Omega and hadn't given up her trousers, and Mama and Queen Aika often wore gowns, but not all the time. Father wore skirts sometimes, but never a full gown.  
"Honey, what you are doesn't affect what you wear. You wear whatever you're comfortable in." Mama knelt to meet his eyes.  
"Then I want to wear this dress when we land," Thomas said. "And this one today." He pointed at a dark blue dress, hemmed neatly with a braid in his house colors. All the dresses were, it seemed. Aziza and Mama helped him put it on. First was the chemise.  
"I'll tell you what I told Teresa," Mama began, "No corsets until you're at least fifteen."  
"Yes, Mama," Thomas said. Next were the petticoats: hooped and cloth. The smart petticoat was another dress, a deep purple to go under the dark blue.  
"We forgot his shoes!" Aziza cried.  
"That is not an issue today, Mistress Aziza," Mama said. "The slippers are not hard to put on, and his other boots will simply go right over them." It seemed a shame to hide the pretty blue slippers under his sturdy boots, but they were fragile and couldn't be worn for much more than dancing.  
Thomas let Aziza spin him when he was all dressed. The skirts spun out around him, then settled back to the ground. They'd seemed so long in the closet; now, held up by petticoats, they were just brushing the ground at his feet.  
"You'll need this," Mama told him, holding up a traveling cloak. "I believe the rest of your clothes can be packed away for now."  
"I'll handle that," Aziza said. "Prince Thomas, go get used to your dress. Miss Sarah can help me."  
"Thank you, Aziza." Thomas smiled shyly at her.  
"How does a family picnic sound?" Thomas looked at his mother with wide eyes.  
"Really? We haven't done one of those in years. Are you sure you have time?"  
"I'm sure, Thomas. Today I am not a queen, only the mother of a boy moving far, far away for a long time."  
"It's not so far, only three weeks by boat! And I'll be back for my twelfth birthday."  
"It is a long way to see your only son for a mother who cannot easily leave her country. But we needn't worry about that. You'll have Princes Minho and Niran, and King Andrew and Queen Aika may well become like second parents to you. Come, let's go gather your father and Teresa."  
"Mister Darlane, let the cooks know that the family will be out for lunch. We are going on a picnic."  
"Of course, my queen."  
"I bet I can find Father before you find Teresa." Thomas challenged, grinning at his mother.  
"Oh, can you now?" She raised an eyebrow at him.  
"Yeah."  
"We'll meet in front of the kitchens; whoever gets there first wins."  
"Okay, Mama." Thomas spun and hurried away. He knew where Teresa was- not in her lessons, she'd skipped and would be in the ballroom now. And Father would be in his office.  
"I'll see you soon, Thomas!" She called after him. Yeah, but he would win.  
"Good morning, Father." Thomas stepped into his office.  
"Good morning, Thomas. Is that one of the new dresses your mother wanted to surprise you with?" Thomas nodded. "You look wonderful in it."  
"You say that about everything I wear!" Thomas giggled.  
"My children need to know that they don't need to change their bodies to be happy. And you do look wonderful in everything you wear."  
"We have to beat Mama and Teresa to the kitchens!" Thomas grabbed his father's hand. "We're going to have a family picnic and Mama and I are racing."  
"Then we truly must hurry. I know a secret way, too." Father smiled at him, eyes twinkling.  
"Good!" Thomas let his father guide him to a tapestry; behind it was a passage.  
"In case anyone attacked, we could hide here." Thomas nodded. He and Teresa had known several of these spots for years. "But it also makes for a quick way to the kitchens."  
"Prince Consort Edward!" A maid startled when they stepped out the other end. "And Prince Thomas!" She bowed and collected herself quickly. "What may I do for you, sirs?"  
"Nothing, Miss," Father said. Are you, by any chance, headed to the kitchens?"  
"I am, sir. I have instructions to make up a picnic basket."  
"Might we come with you?"  
"Oh. Of course, sir."  
"Thank you, Miss." They began to walk with her to the kitchens and reached the doors just as Mama and Teresa slid around the corner.  
"I told you they would beat us, Mama!" Teresa cried, clearly disappointed.  
"Your father has been using the secret tunnels again, I see." Mama glared at him. "And teaching your brother his tricks."  
"Thomas doesn't need Father's tricks; we have enough of our own." Teresa grinned wickedly at him.  
"Oh?" Mama raised an eyebrow. Thomas smiled sweetly at her.  
"Thomas, you got a new dress!" Teresa spun him, though his skirts were the same as hers, and delighted in the color.  
"Excuse me, Your Majesties, Your Highnesses, but I have a picnic basket for you?"  
"Thank you, Master Analis," Mama smiled at the cook. "Come, children, you can play outdoors."  
They took their horses out to the river bed, though slower than normal because Thomas had to get used to riding in a dress.  
"We'll race on the way back," Teresa promised.  
"Stay within our sight, then," Mama and Father said together. "You're old enough now to ride ahead a bit." Mama continued.  
"Of course, Mama. Can we eat now?" Thomas asked.  
"Yes, we can eat now," Father said as Mama laughed. Thomas and Teresa set up the blanket and got out the food. Thomas sat first, smoothing his dress over his lap and tucking his feet under his knees the way Teresa did sometimes. Mama and Teresa sat next to him, and Father next to Mama.  
"Thomas, here's your food." Teresa rolled her eyes and shoved a raspberry and coconut tart at him; he was the only one who ate them.  
"Thank you, Teresa." Thomas took some of the turtle venison and cranberry mash to go with it.  
"Eat well, children, then you can go play by the river." Thomas ate two helpings of venison and cranberries, and even ate arrowroot and cucumber. As he ate his tart, Thomas started grabbing long reeds that Teresa handed him and sorting them.  
"Start making baskets!" Teresa told him.  
"I'm still eating." Thomas ate his last tart slowly just to annoy her, then began weaving the baskets she wanted so badly.  
"We should catch something in these," Teresa said. "They're big enough." Thomas dipped his basket in the water and waited for a few minutes. Nothing happened. He pulled it out to find it held the water.  
"Catch a fish, Thomas! I've got one; we can have fish for dinner!"  
"I don't see why you two couldn't. But you'd each have to catch about a hundred fish to feed the whole court." Mama said. Teresa bent to catch another fish, and Thomas caught one, too.  
"Mama, who are those men?" Thomas asked.  
"What men, darling?" Thomas didn't point, but he nodded his chin their direction.  
"The ones in black, over there."  
"Teresa, Thomas, get on your horses." Mama's voice was cold and scary; Thomas swung himself up and held his basket tightly to his chest.  
"Start riding to the palace, both of you, and don't stop. No matter what." Mama ordered as she and Father mounted their horses. Thomas and Teresa began riding slowly.  
"Ride as fast as you can," Father said, next to Thomas. Teresa started off and Thomas's horse followed. He looked back at Mama and Father, riding at a more sedate pace behind them, talking calmly. The men in black were moving toward them, but they didn't have horses. They had to walk or run.  
"Your Highnesses! Whatever is the rush?" A stable hand asked.  
"We spotted someone in the fields, and Mama told us to hurry away. She and Father are coming now." Thomas checked his basket; none of the water had gotten on his dress and the fish were still there.  
"Catching fish for your dinner, my prince?"  
"Yeah. But I only need one." Thomas had caught four fish.  
"And so do I," Teresa said.  
"Come inside, Your Highnesses." Thomas dismounted his horse and took Teresa's hand. They stepped back into the shadows of the stables.  
"We won't go inside until Mama and Father do," Teresa told the stable hand. "But we will stay back here." They tucked themselves into a corner and watched their fish swimming around in the baskets.  
"Do you think those men will catch Mama and Father?"  
"No. They're walking, still, and Mama and Father are nearly here." The stable hands went about putting their horses back in their stalls, grooming them, as Thomas and Teresa hudded in a corner.  
"Close up the stables." They heard Mama say. Now that she was inside, they couldn't see her. "Find the guards and bring them here. Thomas, Teresa, come with me." She swept them into a tunnel.  
"What about Father?" Thomas asked.  
"He's taking a different way. Now keep quiet. You are to go to your rooms and gather your things, Thomas, you'll be leaving tonight."  
"Tonight?"  
"Under the cover of darkness. Teresa, go with him. Use your tunnels to get to one of the safe rooms."  
"But Mama--"  
"Write to Prince Minho now, if you must. But you will be leaving tonight." Teresa pulled Thomas into a shootoff of their tunnel, leaving Mama to go on alone.  
"This will get us to your room faster."  
"I don't want to leave tonight, Teresa. I want to leave in daylight."  
"You can't. You have to leave so that if we are attacked and all killed, you'll be safe somewhere else."  
"I don't want to think about that, Teresa."  
"There's a reason I'm not to travel with Mama and Father, Thomas. Now come on." Thomas followed Teresa through the tunnel. Luckily this was one they could walk in.  
"Prince Thomas?" Aziza looked up from where she was packing one of Thomas's trunks. "Princess? What are you doing here?"  
"Mama thinks someone's attacking the castle," Teresa said smoothly. "Here, let us help. You need to gather your things, Mistress."  
"Of course, Princess." Aziza slipped out through the tunnel.  
"She'll be fine, Thomas, we need to finish your packing." His trunks were mostly full already; his closet was empty. It didn't take long before they were done.  
"Thomas, who else is traveling with you?"  
"Mistress Aziza, obviously--"  
"No, I mean noble children."  
"Gally and Lady Harriet, as far as I know." Thomas frowned. Would someone else be joining them?  
"Who will meet you there?"  
"Minho, Niran, Queen Aika, and King Andrew. Why is this important?"  
"Because there will be someone else there, for Lady Harriet. Their names are Lady Sonya and Lord Newt."  
"And Gally?"  
"He'll be joining the three of them at his parents' country resort when summer comes."  
"Okay. Why do I need to know this?"  
"Because you don't often talk to them here, and you're going to have to on the ship." Teresa said. "You'll be in close quarters for three weeks. You cannot just talk to Mistress Aziza, Miss Sarah, and Mister Dalven. You must speak with them."  
"I will, Teresa, I swear."  
"You can't study all the time, either."  
"I'm not going to study at all, Teresa." Thomas grinned at her. They both knew it was a lie. "I'm going to relax and talk to people and enjoy the trip and write you and Minho a hundred letters each, bug Aziza into teaching me how to make a dress." Teresa started laughing and he did too.  
"Let's write a letter to Minho now," Teresa said. "And Gally and Lady Harriet. They need to know about the time change and we can't leave." They sat at Thomas's desk and began to write.  
"We can't write to Minho first, Thomas, we'll take too long on his letter," Teresa said. "Write to Gally and Lady Harriet first."  
"I thought you were going to help!"  
"You know how to write a letter, Thomas." Teresa rolled her eyes and settled delicately on his bed. "And I'm going be writing to Minho." Thomas wrote short letters-- notes, really-- to Lady Harriet and Gally, telling them that their ship was leaving earlier than planned and why.  
"Good, you've finished." Teresa signed her name and shoved the letter to Minho at him.  
"Where's Aziza? She should be back by now." Thomas said.  
"Getting Miss Sarah and Mister Dalven, no doubt. They need to finish packing too." Thomas skimmed over Teresa's part of the letter; she said simply that Thomas would be arriving a few hours earlier than planned, and had made a few jokes Thomas didn't quite get, and he doubted Teresa would explain them. So he just started writing as he normally did. Minho would get it. He always did.

To say Minho was worried put it lightly. Thomas and Teresa's latest letter had said that they feared attack, and Thomas was coming early for that reason.  
"Minho, we've heard nothing from our friends in Celessa. I'm sure nothing's happened."  
"The mail takes a week to get here, Mother, anything could have happened!"  
"There are faster ways to get mail, Minho." She said gently. "And the reports are all good."  
"What faster ways?"  
"All in good time, Minho. Why don't you write Prince Thomas back? I'm sure he'll appreciate hearing from you." Minho huffed. Thomas would be here in two weeks; he wouldn't even have time to get a letter back.  
"Minho, listen to your mother. Go write Prince Thomas and Princess Teresa."  
"Yes, Father." Minho didn't stomp to his room-- that would have been unsightly for a prince of nine-- but he did shut the door a little harder than normal and relished in the feeling.

A week on the ship with little more to do than read, sew, or talk had Thomas going crazy. He'd been on a ship once before, but he hardly remembered it.  
"Have you sailed much, my prince?" Lady Harriet asked suddenly. "You're looking rather pale."  
"No, I haven't." Thomas looked at his hands. "I suppose I do."  
"Seasickness isn't fun, Prince." Gally, older than Harriet, gruff and tall and blond, said. "I got seasick like crazy at your age. Ginger root always worked well."  
"Thank you--"  
"Oh, stuff it with the sir stuff, Prince Thomas. It makes me feel old."  
"Gally, you can't say that with the prince around. He's seven!" Lady Harriet chided him. "Don't mind him, Prince, and don't bother calling me lady, either. I know it's what you've been raised on." Thomas nodded; his stomach was turning and he didn't want to puke all over.  
"He won't actually stop unless you stop addressing him in private as Prince Thomas," Aziza called from her bed.  
"Mistress Aziza, don't say such things!" Mister Dalven said sharply.  
"I would know, Mister Dalven, it's what he did with me. Anyway, Thomas, you're fine with that, right?" Thomas nodded again, smiling at her.  
"You cannot simply call the prince by his given name!"  
"I've been doing it for years, with his express permission the whole time." Harriet was giggling into her hands and Gally had a growing smile on his face.  
"If you were older, Prince, you would understand why you cannot do this." Mister Dalven was trying to get Thomas to mind him, now. Thomas just shrugged and smiled innocently.  
"I think you," Gally grabbed Thomas's shoulder, "Need some fresh air." Thomas allowed Gally to take him above decks. (He couldn't have done anything about it if he wanted to. Gally was tall and strong and at least fifteen, there was no Thomas could have stopped him short of speaking.)  
"Well, you're not green yet," Gally remarked, looking him over. "I don't suppose you actually have any ginger root on you?" Thomas shook his head, looking in the direction of home. Harriet came up a few minutes later.  
"Thomas," She began lowly, "That seamstress of yours is quite endearing. She's an Omega, right?"  
"Yes," Thomas said.  
"Harriet," Gally rebuked her sharply. Thomas didn't know why, they talked about secondary genders all the time at home.  
"How many times have traveled by ship, Thomas?" Gally asked.  
"This is my second time."  
"Really?"  
"Yes. The first was years ago; I hardly remember it."  
"Well, you'll travel by ship a lot soon enough; we take the rivers all the time," Gally said. "You get used to the motion of the boat and eventually your seasickness might go away. It did for me, anyway." Thomas nodded; he felt ill again.  
"The air's not helping, is it," Gally sighed. "Maybe you really are just sick?" Thomas hoped not. He didn't want to be ill when arriving, and he was usually ill for a long while.  
"I'll get the ship's doctor," Harriet said. "Gally, maybe you should take him below?"  
"If he pukes, better he does it over the side than on the floor," Gally said lightly. "You just can't make things simple, can you, Thomas? But you might just be homesick, too." Thomas shrugged. He wouldn't know.

Thomas still hadn't written back. Okay, maybe that was because Minho had sent his letter three days ago, but with the ship coming closer it would reach Thomas sooner, and then he could write back. But maybe he hadn't finished writing the letter?  
"Prince Minho, you will get a letter from Prince Thomas soon. I'm sure he's fine. Please stop pacing and sit down." Miss Bella said. "Besides, you'll have Prince Thomas to yourself for years."  
"What do you mean? Niran's still here, and then Thomas will have to leave." Minho frowned.  
"I mean, Prince, that Prince Thomas will be here after Prince Niran leaves to be fostered in two years. After his presentation, he'll be back until he's married or reaches his majority and chooses to leave." Miss Bella reminded him.  
"Oh, right." Minho sat down on his bed. "Do I have to go to lessons today, Miss Bella?"  
"Yes." She set down her sewing. "You must always attend to your lessons well, Prince."  
"Of course, Miss Bella," Minho said. “But do I have to pay a lot of attention in the boring ones?”  
“Especially those, Prince.” Miss Bella laughed. “You’re talking about foreign history? It can be boring, but it’s very important.” It didn't seem important to Minho. Wasn't knowing the history of his own country enough?  
“And soon you'll have Prince Thomas to sit through your boring lessons with you.” Miss Bella said. “But for this week, you must attend alone. Off with you, now.”  
“I'll see you in a few hours, Miss Bella,” Minho promised. His lessons were boring, but he could always complain to Thomas and Miss Bella about how boring they were.

Thomas was not, in fact, sick. Well, he was seasick, but that was better than being actually ill. Anything was better than actually being ill. It was Teresa's turn now, he'd been sick enough.  
“Thomas, would you like to play a game with us?” Harriet asked. “No, Gally, this one isn't too old for him, I swear.”  
“You say that about every game you try to teach him, Harriet.”  
“It isn't, I swear!”  
“Teach me the game first and we'll see,” Gally said. They'd quickly figured out that Mister Dalven didn’t really care what they did, Aziza would absolutely join in if Mister Dalven wasn’t watching, and Thomas had a penchant for sneaking around-- disappearing, really-- and turning up somewhere asking questions of a bemused sailor.  
“It’s one we’ve played before, Gally, it’s very simple.” Harriet said, looking back at Thomas. “And I bet Thomas has played before, too.” She stood, climbing onto her bunk. “You have five seconds to get off the floor, or you’re out.” Gally joined her, and Thomas used his five seconds to climb onto Gally’s shoulders.   
“We can’t all be in one spot!” Harriet threw blankets and pillows down, and they began.  
“Prince Thomas, do stop climbing on me.”  
“Okay, Mister Dalven.” Thomas jumped to the bed, then ran on the pillows over to Gally.  
“You're good at this game, Thomas,” Gally said. “Do you play often?”  
“Yeah, Teresa and I like to come up with more difficult ways to play.”  
“Oh, can I join?” Aziza stepped onto a pillow with one foot and then jumped over to Thomas.  
“Of course.” Thomas stopped trying to get on Gally's back and jumped Aziza instead.  
“Get off me, child!” She laughed. Thomas stepped onto her shoulders, jumped down, and skipped three pillows, almost knocking Harriet off her feet.  
“Hey, Thomas, that’s not fair,” Gally said. “You can’t purposely knock people off the pillows.”  
“Off the rocks.” Thomas corrected him.  
“You can’t knock people off the rocks, Thomas, they have to get out themselves.”  
“Hey!” Harriet said. “I’ll have you know I always win at home.”  
“Yeah, and Bouncy-boy here likes to cheat, climbing on people and knocking them over.” Gally mock-glared at Thomas, and he pouted right back.   
“What are you doing? Are you all children?” Ah, so Mister Dalven finally decided to pay attention.  
“Yes, actually, we are,” Thomas said.  
“Never mind that! You are royal children and a seamstress! You should not be jumping about like a bunch of hooligans!”  
“Are we not allowed to have fun, as royal children and a seamstress?” Thomas asked innocently.  
“Of course you’re allowed to have fun. But this behavior of unbecoming of your stations, especially you, Prince, and you, Mistress Aziza, playing with them as an equal.”  
“Well, we’re having fun, and no one really cares what we do down here. The sailors aren’t checking on us, and I don’t think they’d mind anyway.” Thomas said before stepping over to stand by Gally.  
“Mister Dalven, if I may?” Gally asked, stepping off the pillow. “The game we are playing is not harmful, nor is it in any way inappropriate. If that were the case, I would have stopped it myself. We are young, Mister Dalven, and like our fun.”  
“I don’t believe three weeks of boredom would suit any of us well, Mister Dalven,” Harriet added.  
“Well, you three could sit and play a quieter, less obnoxious game, while Mistress Aziza does her work. Or you could attend to your studies.”  
“Attending to our studies for a few hours each morning is enough, I believe, and Aziza doesn’t have any more work than you,” Gally told him. “Thomas, Harriet, off the bed. We’re not going to stop playing.” Mister Dalven didn’t interrupt them again, and they played down to two: Harriet and Thomas.  
“You know, you can’t shove me like you did Gally,” Harriet said. “I’m too fast for that.”  
“Maybe not.” Thomas shrugged. “But I didn’t shove Gally. That’s cheating.” Thomas hopped onto the bed.  
“You’ve got the blanket tangled around your foot,” Aziza called.  
“Do I?” Thomas knelt on the bed to untangle it-- and yanked. Harriet had nowhere to go.  
“Stay there, you two. We’re going to remove one pillow for every time you move until one of you gets out.” Gally said.  
“Okay,” Thomas said.  
“And we’re putting the blanket back first. That will just get folded smaller.”  
“Alright, we get it, Gally. Let’s just play already!” Harriet whined.  
“If neither of you wins in half an hour, I’m stopping you,” Gally warned. “Now go.” Thomas waited as the blanket was put in place, then jumped over four pillows and stepped to the blanket. Two pillows gone, and he was on the biggest space available to them.  
“Well, if that's how you're going to play,” Harriet shrugged and moved in the opposite direction. Four, five, six pillows gone.   
“Move, Thomas,” Gally said. Thomas stepped to the next pillow, moving farther away from Harriet. The pillows thinned out as he and Harriet kept up their little dance, leaping over pillows and landing lightly on their feet. Twelve, thirteen, fourteen. Thomas ended up back on the blanket, Harriet on a few feet away balancing on a pillow.   
“You have twelve pillows and five minutes left,” Gally said. Thomas stretched a hand out to Harriet, who took it cautiously.   
“I don't like the looks of this,” Aziza muttered. Harriet joined Thomas on the blanket, seemingly having figured out what he wanted to do.   
“Eleven,” Gally told them. “Better hurry up if you don’t want a tie.” Harriet stepped first, leading the dance. Thomas let her. He and Teresa switched often enough that it didn’t matter if he led or followed. It was a new one; he had learned it only a few weeks ago. It led them to stepping daintily across the remaining pillows. It was Thomas who stepped off first, into a spin Harriet had tried to stop.  
“And Harriet wins, with three pillows left.” Gally clapped his hands together. “Are you alright, Thomas?”  
“I just slipped, Gally, I’m fine.”  
“Thomas, it’s nearing six.” Aziza had moved into a corner. Thomas nodded and followed her. He liked to pray for some time at night, or write letters if he could not settle into praying for long.  
“You pray a lot, Thomas, certainly more than I did at your age,” Gally remarked as they rejoined the group, now sitting in a circle.  
“I always have. I have always had reason to, as well.”  
“You’ve heard the story of his birth, Gally,” Harriet said. “And just because you don’t like praying doesn’t mean other people don’t.”  
“Do you pray to the Highest Three?” Gally asked.  
“No. I am too young, yet. My mother often does, though.”  
“Gally,” Aziza said. “It is well-known where Thomas spends his days, is it not?”  
“What?” Thomas looked between the older three.  
“The story of your birth is well-known, Thomas, because people like to know things about you. You and Princess Teresa have stories told of you across the kingdom. Most people know that you like to spend your time in the temples.”  
“Oh.” Thomas hadn’t thought that people would speak about him and Teresa.   
“Come, Thomas, don’t worry about it. Let’s play another game before dinner,” Aziza said. “Perhaps riddle for a riddle?”  
“What’s that?” Gally asked.  
“You’re given a riddle, and have to answer it with another riddle. When everyone has gone, you share your answer for the riddle you gave and the riddle you got. They should all be similar.” Aziza explained. “It’s tricky, but it’s fun. I’ll start. Thomas, your riddle is…” She trailed off, thinking. “What walks on four legs in the morning, two legs in the afternoon, and three legs at night?”  
“Gally, what is it that cries, runs, and speaks wisely, yet can be cruel and kind in turn?” Thomas said.  
“What?”  
“Now you give Harriet a riddle that answers Thomas’s.” Aziza said.  
“Okay. What trains, teaches, and coaxes, but only hopes it will help?” Gally met Harriet’s gaze.  
“Oh, that’s easy, Gally. What seeks knowledge of its surroundings and investigates its world?”  
“Since I went first, I’ll give the answer to Harriet’s riddle. We work backwards here.” Aziza said. “Harriet, your answer is human.”  
“Yes,” Harriet said. “Gally, I think yours is human as well.”  
“It was. Thomas, yours is man.”  
“And so is Aziza’s.” Thomas ended the train. “We should change it. It’s too easy this way; if you know the first riddle you know all the rest.”  
“Yeah, it is.”  
“Prince Thomas, if I may, it is time for dinner.” Mister Dalven said stiffly.  
“Thank you, Mister Dalven, we’ll be right up.” Thomas helped Aziza to stand.  
“And remember, Prince, that we will be arriving in a week.”  
“Thank you, Mister Dalven,” Thomas said, a bit more firmly. “I expect I’ll see you at breakfast?”  
“Come, Thomas, let’s go, I’m hungry,” Aziza said.

Minho stood on the dock, waiting with Niran, Lady Sonya and Lord Newt.  
“Prince Minho, if I may ask?” Lord Newt began. Minho nodded; he was watching the ship.  
“Where is your mother the queen? And your father?”  
“Mother and Father had will receive Prince Thomas, Lady Harriet, and Gally on their own time. Lady Sonya, I understand you are betrothed to Lady Harriet?”   
“Yes, my prince.” She curtseyed.  
“Aren’t you young to be betrothed?” She was his age.  
“A bit, perhaps, but Harriet has already presented as an Alpha, so it doesn’t much matter what I present as.”  
“I understand that things are not as simple for you, Prince Minho.” Lord Newt said. “But no matter. I’m not betrothed yet either, and I’m close to presenting, myself.” He would be. “The ship is close enough that we should be able to see their figures. Perhaps they’re still below deck?” Minho nodded.  
“Niran, stay away from the edge.”  
“I know how to swim, Minho.” He called.  
“Niran.” Minho sighed; his little brother liked to explore everything. “If you wait to get in the water, maybe Prince Thomas will join you.”  
“Would he?” Niran ran back to Minho’s side, Lord Newt and Lady Sonya muffling their laughter behind their hands.  
“If you ask nicely, he might.”  
“Okay, Minho, I’ll wait.” Well, at least that had worked. And he listened better than he had at three. The ship docked a little less than ten minutes later-- And Thomas was the first off, in a green dress.  
“Prince Thomas, it’s good to see you again,” Minho said. “This is Lady Sonya and her brother, Lord Newt.”  
“The pleasure is mine.” Thomas nodded and smiled. “It’s nice to meet you, Lady Sonya, Lord Newt. And, of course, it’s nice to see you again, Prince Niran.” Thomas grinned at Niran, who had tucked himself behind Minho’s legs.  
“Lady Harriet and Gally are coming down in a moment.” A girl, someone Minho didn’t know, curtseyed to the four of them, in order of rank.  
“This is my seamstress, Mistress Aziza.” Thomas introduced. “Mistress, this is Lady Sonya, Lord Newt, Prince Niran, and Prince Minho.”  
“You brought a seamstress, Prince Thomas?” Lady Sonya asked.  
“Yes, he did, Lady Sonya. Don’t bug him, now.” Gally said.  
“Gally, it’s good to see you again.” Lord Newt stepped forward first. “And Lady Harriet, of course.”  
“I’ve told you, call me Harriet. We are family, after all.” Lady Harriet greeted Minho and Niran before taking Lady Sonya into her arms.  
“Prince Minho, Lady Harriet and I spoke to Prince Thomas on the ship about going boating on the rivers. Perhaps we could make a day of it before we leave?”  
“That sounds like an excellent idea, Gally. I think Niran wants to swim today, though, so maybe we should go inside and plan that first.”  
“We have to yet to greet your parents, Prince Minho.” Thomas reminded him. “We should do that before making any other plans for the day.”  
“Of course, Prince Thomas.”  
“Mister Dalven will oversee our things,” Thomas assured Gally, Lady Harriet, and Mistress Aziza.  
“I’ll go find the head seamstress here, Prince Thomas, and figure things out. Are you sure Queen Rosa didn’t write ahead?”  
“Not that I know of.”  
“You can worry about that later. For now, let’s get inside.” Lady Harriet said. “It looks like rain.” Minho led the group inside. This was going to be an interesting few months.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry about the wait on this chapter. It's likely going to be a few weeks until the next one; I've got two APs and bowling right now.   
> Comment your thoughts, and kudos are always appreciated!
> 
> See ya,  
> Phoenix


	6. lessons are always better outside

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tutors with bad moods try to ruin a fun day. (Hint: It doesn't work so well)

Minho laughed as Newt picked Thomas up and spun him around. Gally frowned off to the side.   
"Don't go hurting the little prince, now, Newt." Little prince had quickly become a nickname for Thomas.  
"You're so light, Thomas. You need to eat more." Newt put him down, and Thomas giggled.  
"I eat as much as you do, Newt. Ladies, please, join us." Sonya and Harriet linked arms and sped up.  
"Your gardens are beautiful, Minho. Thomas, is it true you like to garden yourself?"  
"I do enjoy gardening." He sounded too old to be as young as he was.  
"Well, you're traveling with us this summer."  
"Princes Minho and Thomas, Lord Newt, Ladies Harriet and Sonya, Gally." Mister Dalven said sharply. "Your lessons need to be attended to."   
"It's simply such a nice day, Mister Dalven. We've had so few since arriving, Lady Andelia must be displeased."  
"Lady Andelia won't care if you go tend to your studies, as good children should."  
"Perhaps we should have lessons outside today. It would be a good change of scenery, and Mother always says children need sun and fresh air as much as possible." Harriet said sweetly. "And besides, Thomas is right. Lady Andelia cares about children being happy and healthy. Sun is good for that."  
"You children, always coming with excuses." Mister Dalven huffed. "I'll inform your instructors of the change in location." Thomas sat on the blanket they'd spread out.   
"We'll have to see if this weather helps you, Thomas." The rainy season here was much shorter than Thomas was used to, and maybe more sunshine would help him.  
"It will, Minho. I won't be going out in the rain as often to visit the temples, and besides, I'm stronger than I used to be." Thomas smiled at him.   
"After nearly dying at least three times, I'd hope so." Gally frowned.  
"I'll be fine, Gally, I didn't get sick on the way here and I won't get sick while here."  
"Don't test the gods, Prince Thomas, you know should know that." Their collective religion teacher said gravely.  
"Of course, Mistress Elisaw." Thomas bowed his head.   
"I know you'll tend to your prayers later, Prince Thomas. For now, let's speak of Lord Elian, the counterpart to Lady Andelia. Lord Elian is the god of poor weather. In a good mood, he will elect for a light sprinkle of rain or perhaps some frost. In a bad mood, he will cause huge thunderstorms and snowstorms. He and Lady Andelia argue over who gets to control the weather."  
"Lady Andelia wins more often. On days when it's sunny and later rainy, they switched." Thomas said quietly. Minho sat next to him, and slowly everyone sat around them.   
"Correct, Prince Thomas. Do you know who the weather gods here are?"  
"Yes." Thomas said quietly. Most of them were the same. Their weather gods were one of the biggest differences, but Minho knew all about them, so he wasn't allowed to answer.  
"The Asenda triplets, they're called." Thomas began slowly, as if he had learned this all a long time ago. "Lady Elenas, goddess of storms, Lady Menuas, goddess of clear days, and Lady Retuas, goddess of winds. They work together to balance the weather cycles."  
"You know so much for one so young."  
"Sometimes the only thing I can do is read," Thomas whispered. "I've learned a lot that way." Minho almost flinched at the reminder. Thomas wasn't going to be that sick while he was here. He couldn't be.   
"I see. Lady Harriet, what can you tell me about the Asenda triplets?"  
"They're the younger sisters of Lady Andelia, and Lady Elenas is married to Lord Elian."  
"Very good. As you know, Prince Thomas, our culture varies from yours in several ways. Do you worship the Asenda triplets at home?"  
"We respect them and their place in the order of the gods, but we don't worship them as you do. Lady Andelia and Lord Elian, as the elder two of the five gods, are thought to be wiser. Most of our gods and goddesses have something to do with children, and Lady Andelia's five stillborn children and her care with human children is what makes her more important in our eyes."  
"What of Lord Elian? He has no children."  
"Lord Elian is said to have killed those who harmed children."  
"Good. Your other instructors should be arriving soon, but I think you've learned enough from me. Go and play. Enjoy the day Lady Andelia and Lady Menuas have given you." Minho pulled Thomas up. He was too pale. Gally, Sonya, Harriet, and Newt all had color in their cheeks already, and Thomas needed that too.  
"Wanna race?" Minho grinned at him.  
"Of course! I'm going to win, here and back, starting... Now!" Thomas took off, laughing. Minho wasn't far behind.

Gally picked Thomas up as though he was a baby.  
"Put me down, Gally!"  
"No, little prince."  
"I'm supposed to be getting stronger here, Gally."  
"And you can do that by eating a good lunch. You've gone on two runs today, plus raced Minho several times. Eat something."  
"Yes, Gally."  
"That's our good little prince." Harriet teased. "We even have raven today."   
"What about mulberries?" Thomas fired back.  
"What good is raven without mulberries?"  
"Let him eat, Harriet," Gally said. "Are you excited to leave in a few weeks, Thomas?"  
"Yes, I'd like to see more of the world."  
"You're awfully old sounding for one so young, Thomas." Sonya laughed. "When'd you learn that?"  
"I've always spoken this way. Children in our court are expected to speak formally to adults in most situations." Thomas bit into his raven. It didn't taste exactly like it did at home, but it was very good.  
"After your lunch, you will split up into age groups for the rest of your lessons." One of their new tutors, Celina Delrouge, said coldly. "I see no reason to remain outside, but we shall. The queen has ordered it." Newt and Gally finished first, and shuffled off to wear their tutor-- history-- waited. Sonya and Harriet were next, with Mistress Delrouge, leaving Thomas and Minho to study languages.   
"For today, we've decided to have you stick with one of us, due to the unconventional way we're teaching. How about a game?" Thomas nearly laughed. Mistress Elia was the most relaxed of any of the tutors he'd ever had, and he adored her for it.  
"They are too old for games, Mistress Elia!" Mistress Delrouge called.  
"They are nine and seven. That will never be too old for games. And these are learning games. Mind your own students. Now," Mistress Elia said, turning back to them, "Prince Thomas, you'll start. Read this passage in Gaylian, and then translate it to a language you know. Out loud." Thomas looked at the passage she pointed to, and spoke aloud in Celassian. Mistress Elia laughed.  
"Very good, Prince Thomas. Minho, it's your turn." Minho read a different passage in Celassian.  
"No more Celassian until you've run through the rest of your languages, and no speaking in Gaylian for the rest of the day."  
"Yes, Mistress Elia," Thomas answered in Leta, then read the next passage. Minho copied him, and they went back and forth, reading in their worst languages. Thomas worked on his Elgan and Osese; they were the two he was worst in.  
"I wouldn't have expected you to know Osese, Thomas," Minho told him. "It's more common here, I thought."  
"It's my aunt's native language." Thomas shrugged. "She taught Teresa and me when she lived with us, before our cousin Chuck was born. Of course, I didn't really study it until last year, I'm hardly fluent."  
"Has Teresa kept up on it?" Thomas shrugged; he didn't know. He and Teresa really only spoke in Celassian unless they had no other choice.  
"Your lesson is over for the day. Go join another group, and remember, princes, no Celassian or Gaylian for the rest of the day."  
"Yes, Mistress Elia," Minho spoke in Osese and Thomas spoke in Arcyian.  
"It's not fair that you know so many different languages," Minho complained, quietly, as they went to join Gally and Newt.  
"I know only seven languages."   
"That's a lot. I only know four."  
"Our ambassadors know dozens of languages."  
"That's their job."  
"Isn't it our job to connect with our people? Shouldn't we be trying to learn all their languages?"  
"That's actually really smart."  
"Who's being smart now?" Gally asked.   
"Thomas, as always," Minho told him, flopping onto the ground and ignoring the scolding he got.  
"Language day?" Newt asked. "I hated those."  
"I love them," Thomas announced. "Teresa would hate them, too."  
"Your Highnesses, if you're to join us, you must stay quiet and let us work." Thomas inclined his head in deference and sat, listening quietly. Aziza wandered out after a time, sitting on his other side quietly and handing him a stack of kerchiefs to stitch on. As he listened, elements of the story made their way into his work.  
"Those are beautiful, Thomas," Minho murmured to him. "Might I have one?"   
"Perhaps... perhaps when they are finished." Thomas continued his work.  
"Come, little prince, it's time to move on to a new lesson." Gally lifted Thomas up gently, not disturbing his work.  
"I thought Minho and I were done."  
"You are, but Newt and I aren't. Unless you want to stay here?" Thomas shook his head.  
"Why are you carrying me?"  
"You're half-asleep, Tommy, and it's only an hour after lunch," Newt said. A hand checked his forehead. "You're not unusually warm, so perhaps you're just worn out from the day outside."  
"Thomas, we should race!" Minho tugged on Gally's arm.  
"I don't think Thomas wants to race right now, Minho."  
"No, I'll race him. And I'll win." Thomas clambered down from Gally's hold and took Minho's hand.  
"And what are you princes doing today?  
"We were going to race," Minho told Mistress Delrouge.  
"And are you done with your lessons?"  
"They are, Celina, and they just sat in on Lord Newt and Gally's history lesson. Let them have fun." Turning to them, she said: "From me to that oak tree and back. Three... two... one... go!" Thomas took off running. Minho wasn't going to beat him this time. Thomas hit the tree and pushed back off, while Minho was a few feet behind him. Thomas kept glancing back, making sure he still had that few feet on the older boy.  
"Thomas wins!" Newt cheered.  
"Back to your lessons, all of you! I don't care that you are a child, Prince Thomas, Prince Niran attends his lessons with greater care than you do." Mistress Delrouge pressed a hand to his back. "I know you're smart, but your studies still need attending to."   
"Yes, Mistress Delrouge."  
"I have them both doing a language challenge, Celina. Let them stay with Lord Newt and Gally. They keep up well enough." She gestured the kerchiefs Aziza was holding.  
"Very well. They may attend my lesson if they pay attention." Newt guided Thomas and Minho to sit at his and Gally's feet.  
"They're smart boys, Mistress, they'll pay attention well enough," Newt promised. She began to speak rapidly, asking questions quickly. It was lucky Thomas had covered most of it at home, because most of the questions were aimed at him.  
"It's almost supper time, Celina, the children need to change." Thomas's legs were numb and hard to move, so Gally picked him up.  
"You're very smart, little prince."  
"Thank you, Gally. I have worked hard at my studies."  
"I think you should be tutored with us, Tommy, if you're this good at your studies."  
"But..."  
"You don't want to leave Minho behind." Thomas nodded.  
"Well, you're clearly ahead of your age, whether or not that's because of your tutors at home or because you're just smart, we don't know."  
"It can be spoken of later, for you must make haste to change." Mistress Elia frowned playfully at them.  
"Yes, Mistress," The boys chorused dutifully.   
"And Prince Thomas must walk when inside the castle."  
"He will," Gally promised. "Shall we go eat, then?"  
"Yeah! Come eat!" They looked up; it was Niran, calling from a window.  
"We can't disappoint Prince Niran, can we, Thomas?" Thomas grinned up at Gally.  
"Never. To the food!" He cried, laughing. Maybe he was homesick, maybe he couldn't do more than write Teresa, but he was happy. And that would do.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey everyone! I'm so sorry about the wait. I've been rather busy lately, with math added back into my classes and all. I know this chapter is short, I'm sorry. Please, please comment what you think! Comments are my lifeblood. Also, I am doing Thominho Week again this year (even tho this fic isn't done lol), so be on the lookout for that around July 1st.  
> Thanks for reading,  
> Phoenix

**Author's Note:**

> Hey everyone! I had hoped to get this up on Saturday the 21st, the Free Choice Day in Thominho Week, but it was not to be. What did you think? Kudos and comment, please! I love constructive criticism. 
> 
> I'll get the next chapter up soon, hopefully,  
> Phoenix


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